An Old World Made New
by annieplus7
Summary: Rogue Prince, mercenary, and wanderer, Gajeel (and party) make a string of raids along the coastline. They come across a secret craftsman's village and Gajeel discovers a surly records keeper who refuses to bend to him. Perhaps she is the push he needs to turn himself into the man Fiore deserves?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Gajeel, shall we break for camp? Rogue has informed Juvia there is a stream not too far past the crop of trees there. Gajeel?"

He could hear the plea in his friend's voice: 'please let us rest here.'

Gajeel could feel his own bones weakening from exhaustion. His black steel armor weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he never lost face. He never acknowledged his friend's request either. He was more intrigued by the little village that sprawled against the rocky coastline below them. It was obvious by the farmland and drying fishing gear that they did not depend on imports for their economic stability, but they were much too small to warrant such elegant structures of grandeur like they had. It's existence could be a partnership with another sister-village, but the nearest he could think of was 100 miles from where they came.

His crimson eyes drifted into the land surrounding the town and on the horizon, searching for their purpose.

"Gajeel!"

He reluctantly withdrew from his thoughts and shot a glare to the blunette standing at his side.

"The horses, Gajeel. They need rest," she stated.

Instead of relaxing his glare, he turned his steed to the murmuring crowd behind him. It was obvious now that Juvia had not meant the horses needed rest. His men were exhausted. Some had dismounted, others had fallen asleep in their saddle, which was quite an impressive feat considering the late afternoon sun setting in their faces. The last few remained at-attention, quietly talking amongst themselves.

"Dismount! Set up camp! Take em' down for a drink," he ordered.

A visible sigh washed through his men, slumping shoulders in relief. They turned away from him and broke off into groups to go about their encampment routine.

"You push them too hard," his friend whispered, taking hold of his horse's bridle as he dismounted with a grunt. He ignored her and released the packs on his saddle, tossing them to the ground in a heap.

"Juvia thinks you push yourself too hard—"

"Back off, Rain Woman!" he growled. Her face registered no shock or fear at his warning. Slowly, she turned away from him with her pony in tow to join the others at the campsite. He did not care for conversation. He certainly did not care for sentimental conversation. He unhooked the saddle belt from his horse and slid the heavy leather off its back, revealing a wet shine of sweat beneath. His horse was patient and quiet, shifting its weight from one hip socket to another. The horse picked his head up a little higher, realizing the loss of weight, and shook his mane vigorously, jingling the bridle links.

Gajeel snorted at his antics, "Guess that droplet was right. Sorry, Lily."

He patted his horse's neck apologetically, "Go get some grub. There's a barrel in the wagon."

Gajeel held a deep fondness and respect for his horse, Pantherlily. He had once been a war horse for the King's army. Scars marred his healthy black coat, but one gash over his eye threatened his sight. He was forced into retirement until Gajeel found him chewing through the stable gates and destroying stalls left and right. His sight had long since healed and he was clearly not ready to settle down as a stud.

Gajeel watched him trot through the campsite to the wagon that held the tell-tale barrel of kiwis, nosing people until they opened it for him, gorging himself. His intelligence went against the laws of nature.

Gajeel observed their campsite's position. It was a semi-round meadow up against a thick forest. Where there weren't rocks and crevices, there were stumps and signs of a fire long since burned out. Behind him, the meadow broke off to a cliff. He walked to the edge, kicking stones to the precipice and watching them fall. They clattered upon impact and shattered. If he could see the village, the village could see him.

It was then he could feel the exhaustion of their trip wash over him again. He unhooked his black cloak, letting it drop to the ground, followed by his gauntlets and breast plates. He carried no real weapon, preferring to dismember his opponent personally. If they ever came that close. A wry grin slithered across pointed teeth at the thought.

He sat on the rocky ground, untying the cords that held his armor to his leg. He admired the artwork that went into his protective gear. The artist exhibited a great admiration for dragons, and the scratches and dents in the metal did not diminish its beauty. The metal itself was a work of genius, infusing carbon into the iron. He commissioned the work to be done, but the smith far exceeded his expectations when he returned with such black plating. At first he had thought it was a weakness in the metal, a cut-corner to save on materials. But he sees now it was a defensive enhancement. The plates layered over themselves in a scaly fashion, allowing for greater mobility. He would have to thank the smith upon his return home.

* * *

The sun now set, he cleaned his gear and situated his sleeping area for the night. He would stay near the cliff with the view of the village below, his men many paces away, safe from the rocky edge.

Gajeel sat at the cliff, watching the lamp-lighters below. People still meandered in the village streets; possibly drunks considering the time of night. He focused on a particular person in what appeared to be the town's watchtower. Or rather, the highest point of their largest building. He could not tell their gender, only that they wore long, white robes and had an impressive head of blue hair. And here he thought Juvia was the only person he'd ever meet with such blue locks.

It could possibly be a cloister member. He recalled most churches having an impressive inventory of gold and valuables. Maybe that explained the town's extravagance: a craftsman's village and with a wealthy benefactor to boot.

He fiddled with the piercings in his lower lip, still thinking. It did not explain why the village was not on any of his maps. He had left a mess of parchment scrolls behind him.

The sound of hooves clopping against stone approached and Pantherlily gave his master's shoulder a shove.

"The hell you want, Lil'?"

A decided snort blew over the muscular man's face.

Gajeel looked up the long face of his favorite horse. He was never bothered over nothing.

A skirmish broke out in the men's camp. He whipped around in time to see his men piling on top of one another, shouts breaking the natural silence. He was able to make out Juvia from the firelight behind her. Though she still wore her fur-trimmed riding outfit, her hair was loose and bounced around her shoulders, and her hips rolled in time to a runner's pace. Her figure rapidly drew closer.

"Gajeel! Scouts—"

"Shit."

He jumped up, giving an impromptu thought to strapping on his gauntlets, and stalked towards the brawl. He did not need to order his men to make room for they slunk away in fear. The skirmish quickly ceased and men peeled themselves away to reveal two heavily beaten strangers laid out on the ground.

Anger and disgust fought for dominance as Gajeel's expression. He made a show of adjusting his gauntlets, softly tapping a hidden latch that released fatally sharp blades. One blade fit for each of his fingers. He watched the two scouts squirm when he flexed his hand, firelight glinting off the black steel joints. He sat into a squat near the man with ginger colored hair.

"Somethin' tells me you boys are not fond of visitors to yer village," Gajeel stated.

The pair looked at one another, swallowing tightly.

One swift hand took hold of the ginger's throat, lifting him off the ground as Gajeel stood at his full height.

"Why would such a quiet village need to send scouts to passing travelers? Unless," he bared down on the man's trachea, closing off his air supply before throwing him back to the rocky ground, "yer hiding something."

The other man was large and sweated profusely. He did not want the clawed man's attention and so he cowered when blood eyes shifted to him, whimpering, "...Jet..."

"You will tell me what I want to know."

"H-he's a demon...Droy..." the ginger whispered hoarsely, struggling for his voice with a hand at his bruised neck.

Many eyes strained at the sight or turned away when bloodcurdling screams pierced their sanity. Juvia stayed with Pantherlily, consoling his nerves as a wicked laugh rose over the sounds of gurgling and retching.

The moon had crawled barely a few minutes across the sky before orders were slung across the campsite.

"Pack up! We move out tonight! Keep the fire burning," he barked to nearby footmen.

Gajeel approached Juvia and began suiting up, layering his armor plates in their proper order. Juvia noticed the wetness on his gauntlet blades.

"Juvia was wondering what the men were doing here," she prodded.

Gajeel, having mastered the ability to arm himself within seconds, threw an evil grin in the direction of the village.

"They're hiding somethin'," he answered.

His gear was rolled into packs and saddled onto Pantherlily. The horse nickered and tossed his head impatiently, eager for his rider.

The camp was broken down and gathered onto the backs of horses within minutes. The sounds of startled whinnies reverberated in the air.

Gajeel mounted his horse and stared down into the village, noticing the watchman pacing in their watchtower. Gajeel was struck when he realized the form of the blunette was quite female. Her arms wrapped around her waist and her pacing increased with what he could only assume was nervousness. He watched her bring her hand to her face and he was mesmerized by the movement. He was surprised he never noticed her femininity before; it was glaringly obvious now. Perhaps it was her gait. He subconsciously tilted his head to one side, watching with great curiosity. The female paused and stared at him. He had been caught.

A quiet protest whispered behind him and he cast an eye in its direction. The pair of scouts were to be dispatched.

"Wait," he called, "tie and gag 'em. They're still useful."

His man obeyed with no question.

Gajeel planned on getting his way that night, even if he needed a few aces up his sleeves.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Levy crouched into the corner of a plaster barrier wall and scribbled a rune onto its smooth surface. It was a little project of hers in the archives to translate the runes of particularly difficult documents. This one, however, was odd as the upstrokes of one leg did not match any previous symbols, and there was no context to derive its meaning due to, well, lack of content. A stray, cold breeze penetrated her warm thought bubble and brought her attention back to the present. Right, she was on duty. It was her first rotation as the night watch since she joined the Order.

Her hands began to shake with nervousness as the pressure of protecting her beloved town fell to her tiny shoulders. She felt nauseous and clammy; the chalk in her hands was clenched and it pained her fingers to hold the thin stone. What were they thinking, letting the Record Keeper's assistant out of her dusty haven? She ached to be back with her books, parchment, and ink. Instead, she had scribbled many nonsensical runes into the wall to distract herself from the unbearable feeling that something bad was going to happen. She was short, but the barrier would have come up to her bust if she stood. For now, she was completely hidden from the nightmarish darkness when she sat in the corner.

A heavy thud in the floor caused her to jump, launching the painful chalk piece into the air. A door in the wooden floor swung upward, and a friendly head of blonde hair emerged from the orange candlelight below.

"How're you doing?" her busty friend whispered excitedly.

Levy almost burst into tears when she admitted her shame, "Lucy, I can't do this! Go tell Master Makarov I'm sick so I can come back inside. Please!"

Lucy's expression turned sour, but she did not turn back.

"Don't be ridiculous, Levy! I knew you would chicken out. That's why I snuck out! I'll stay and watch with you."

Lucy climbed the rest of the ladder as she finished her sentence. Over her shoulder was a large woven basket that emitted delicious scents.

"You brought food? From where?!" Levy demanded, instantly forgetting her nausea and helping Lucy to close the heavy door.

"I asked Natsu. You know he keeps the stash in his room," she replied, unwrapping dainty cucumber sandwiches and tearing into the crunchy delicacy.

The Order rationed the town's food supply, and due to the influx of members, portions became smaller and smaller. Natsu and Lucy had been dear friends since childhood and they grew up in the town. So when Natsu joined the Order and received a promotion to work in the Preservation Chambers, Lucy followed and partnered with him by working in the fields during Harvest. They were quite popular for doling out the food surpluses when they could.

Levy hesitated at the amount of food before her. She was certainly hungry now and picked a large green apple to bite into. The sour flesh caused her mouth to pinch and water from the tartness. Lucy must have bribed the guards inside to let her up here.

She had become wonderful friends with Lucy since joining the Order. It was not her first choice of career, but her curiosity for things unknown was far greater than the downsides of being an Order member. Some days, she would regret her decision, like tonight. 

She looked out into the night sky, unafraid now that she knew her friend was near. She looked up at the waxing moon, a healthy crescent reflecting gentle moonlight on the ocean waves. She enjoyed the salty smell and the way the constant breeze pulled at her hair. Still facing the wind, she observed the town below, now thankful to watch the lamplighters walk through the streets with their long poles. It was relatively quiet aside from the town's bar patrons. A comforting glow of light on the edge of the village signified their good time.

Levy took another bite of her apple, munching on the soft peel, and scanned the horizon around them. She felt no fear as she paced along the wall, skimming her fingers along the smooth plaster. She liked the privacy the village provided. All around the town was a large outcropping of rocks and cliffs protecting them from wandering travelers, and before them was another cliff. To the untrained eye, it would appear as though the town was built directly on the shore, but from here, she could see they were set on a high shelf, protecting them from high tides and stormy weather.

Lucy giggled around another mouthful of cucumber.

"What's so funny?" Levy asked, nibbling on the core of her apple. A stray droplet of juice crawled down her forearm. She caught the sour drip and trail with the tip of her tongue, smacking her lips.

"Your robe. It's lopsided," she grinned. "Have you been walking around like this all day?"

Of course, Lucy was referring to the wad of fabric tied under her belt to keep it from dragging the ground. She wrapped her arms around her waist self-consciously.

"It's too long. And until Master Makarov promotes me to Senior Record Keeper, I have to wear this."

Lucy snorted at her explanation, "You're talking about a few years from now. Here, lemme fix it!"

Lucy crawled across the floor, kneeling in front of Levy and yanking on the gold cord that made up her belt. Lucy set to work unknotting the braid. Once set loose, the fabric billowed around Levy's body, sending a shiver up her spine as the breeze entered the newly found opening. Levy was grateful to her foresight for laundering her undergarments earlier that day. The thin shift graced her body in silken comfort while still accentuating her less endowed assets. Despite the fact the shift was her favorite, she was more than a little uncomfortable having said assets bared to her best friend. However, Lucy was fast. Her hands snaked around her body, tugging heavy fabric here and there, only pausing to ask Levy to hold a certain fold or pleat. A few minutes later, Lucy leaned back to examine her work and knotted Levy's belt in the correct fashion.

Levy looked down and was surprised to find her slim waist amongst so much material. The fabric itself was white and coarse, quite like burlap, but the years of wear-and-tear from its previous owners softened its stiffness, making it almost comfortable. Almost. She turned her body for an all-around look and was pleased with the flattering design. Levy looked farther down the drapery and upon seeing her bare feet, wiggled her toes.

"Lucy, you're a genius!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her tip-toes.

Lucy said nothing for she was crouched at the South wall, staring intently at the cliffs. Levy followed her gaze and noticed a plume of smoke. She doused one of the torches into a nearby bucket of water and stared at the Southern cliffs, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the moonlight.

Agonizing seconds passed by as Levy's hopes for a grass fire were crushed. It was a campfire. A large one. People had come to the city. And she was playing dress-up instead of doing her job. She threw the heavy trapdoor open, "Sting!" she called, "Travelers on the Southern cliffs!"

A tall man with butter blonde hair appeared at the bottom of the ladder.

"How many?" he called back. His cheeks appeared to be puffed and extended, probably eating Lucy's bribe.

She ran back to the wall, squinting, trying to pick up any movements.

"Can't tell!" Lucy called down. Levy did not notice her friend relay the message, but she heard the answer, "We'll send a scout team to check it out!"

Without even realizing she had moved, Levy was at the trapdoor and added, "Don't send Natsu! He'll burn the forest again!"

A knowing chuckle echoed up the tunnel-like opening.

The girls closed the door and took their respective places in the watchtower: Lucy crouched below their last torch near the bronze warning bell with its mallet in her hands, a large weapon-like hammer for the equally large bell, and Levy paced along the southern wall.

This was the worst part of the job. Of all the nights, of all the Order members, it had to be now with her. Anxiety gripped her stomach, churning the apple she had recently eaten into a nauseating concoction that would hopefully not be violently expelled over the side of the wall. She paused and wrapped her arms around her waist, sparing a glance to the rising smoke. She put her nose to the wind, not picking up any woodsy scents from a campfire. She began pacing again, not taking her eyes off the cliff's edge.

That was when she saw it. A beast.

"Lucy!" she whispered harshly.

Already on alert, her friend was at the Sounthern wall, peeking over the edge from her crouched stance.

"What do you see?" she asked in response.

Levy had read many documents and articles in her time at the Order. She treasured the rare moments stories and pieces of fiction crossed her desk. She recalled an Order News report from a few months back after survivors from recently ravaged towns converged into the Captiol, Magnolia. Their stories were outlandish, but when more survivors came into the Capitol city with the same story, the Order had no choice but to believe them: a large beast with black scales and red eyes destroyed their homes. They called him a dragon. There were other reports too. She had filed them with the other fictions, but was quickly reprimanded when Master Freed went looking for them and filed them with the other critical reports. Back then she had let the issue go, eager to make up for her mistake. But now...

It suddenly dawned on her that it was staring at her. She unconsciously raised her hand to her blushing cheek, enamored by its dark presence. A gust of wind picked up and she watched as its long hair whipped in the strong current. She could not tear her eyes away from it, even after it moved away out of her line of sight. Surly it was a trick; a trick of the eyes, of the light. There was no such things as dragons.

She swore she saw scales; a hint of burning themselves in her memory.

"Lucy," she rasped, too stunned to speak up, "it's coming."

Dragons couldn't be real. Right?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lucy, the more spatially reasonable of the pair, reacted first. Levy was violently jerked from her trance by the loud metallic warning bell. She slapped her hands over her ears to keep from going deaf as Lucy struck the bronze repeatedly. Judging by her agonized expression, it hurt her ears too. Leaving Lucy behind, Levy struggled with the trapdoor and clamored down the ladder to inform the Masters.

The adrenaline coursing through her system fueled her speed. Her bare feet slapped against sleek, marble stone as she ran down stairs, around corners, and through halls. The dorms were beginning to empty and people began gathering in the main hall of the cloister. The sound of the warning bell still echoed in Levy's head and in the halls, but she had to tell someone what was happening.

Her Master Makarov was coming down the flight of stairs leading to the male dormitories. He must have been asleep judging by lines under his tired eyes.

"Master! Master!" She screamed. She could not hear herself over the crowding people, let alone her own deaf ears. He seemed to have noticed her none the less and called for order.

"QUIET DOWN BRATS!" he barked. Despite his minuscule size, his voice carried a commanding tone. An immediate silence quickly followed suite.

Levy reached his side and fell to her knees, suddenly weak from her adrenaline rush.

"Master," she huffed, "there are travelers on the Southern cliffs. Our scouts have not returned..." she trailed off, knowing her next but of information was crucial, yet ludicrous, "There was a beast, Master..." she whispered, hoping he would believe her.

She watched his eyes widen with shock and search his mind for the right course of action, grumbling to himself. He had read the same reports as she. The reports of slaughtered towns, leaving nothing behind but scorch marks. He looked into her face and placed a paternal hand on her shoulder.

"Did you see it..?" he asked, equally as quiet, but no less urgent. He needed a visual confirmation which she granted with a shaky, yet deliberate nod of her head.

"Children!" He called, "Do not panic. We must inform the town immediately. Go into the village, take shelter in the cellars and crags! Leave no one behind," he made a sweeping gesture across the attentive crowd, "and defend yourselves."

An ominous sound of metal rubbing against metal responded. She looked around herself at her fellow members, realizing they already carried weapons from seemingly out of nowhere. Swords, spears, knives, and even bows with arrows were clutched in the hands of her beloved Order members. Their faces that always seemed so joyful and at peace, now held fear and seriousness in frowns and tense muscles. They were a peaceful village. Her mind could not comprehend what her eyes were seeing. They would fight?

"No, Master," she whispered desperately, "we will not survive. It means to kill us," she struggled to riffle through her mind for an alternative solution. Her master gave her his full attention.

"What if we moved the people!" she exclaimed, "To Old Town, from before construction. In the cliffs," she explained haltingly.

Her Master's eyes darkened with remembrance. It was a sketchy decision as it has been vacant for decades, save for Porlyusca. He had been apart of the first settlements, cast out of the country for his determined and voiced allegiance to the old King. She watched his face labor under the difficult memories until acceptance flashed.

"Then it is decided," he mumbled to her.

She vaguely remembered reading the documents about Fairy Tail's conception. Her beloved town was not always so. Before the previous king's death, the people had lived in clay hovels hidden in the cliff sides against the ocean, avoiding persecution. Many years later, they decided it was safe enough to emerge and build their own town, out of sight from the new King's gaze, literally. Levy remembered the day she arrived so many years ago. Her cloister was still being built. She could remember the way the dust on the air tasted with the salt of the ocean. It was the first place she truly felt at home. She would die to protect her home. Looking at her master, she came to the conclusion that even if the town were to be destroyed, they could rebuild it. But only if her people lived. If she could protect the people, she could protect her home.

He raised his hands high, calling the member's attention once more.

"Children! Sheath your weapons and evacuate the people!" Levy could here the whispers of distress at her master's command.

"You will lead the people to the North Western corner of town. Master Freed and Mistress Evergreen will accompany you from there. Now HURRY! The danger is upon us!"

Levy's stomach rolled as her family quickly dispersed into the night. She had fully regained her sense of hearing, but no longer heard the warning bell. Fearing for her friend, she scrambled back the way she had come from the watchtower. The halls were eerily empty as she passed, but she pressed on for her best friend. She paused at the bottom of the ladder, looking up at the open trapdoor. Did she already leave?

"Lucy!" She yelled. No response.

She climbed up the rungs and finally emerged onto the wooden floors of the tower. She looked to the bronze bell and found her dear friend crumpled in a fetal position on the floor, the mallet still in her limp hands. Levy scurried to her side, brushing Lucy's loose hair away from her face. There was a streak of drying blood across her face and neck, coming from her exposed ear. Levy placed two fingers at the pulse point in her unconscious friend's neck, satisfied with the strong heartbeat, and determined to carry her friend down with her. She untied one of the many cords from her friend's waist and positioned her atop Levy's back. Going down the ladder, Levy knew she would need both her hands. So she tied the cord around the unconscious girl's wrists to keep her from sliding off Levy's back. Stepping down the first step, Levy wavered at the amount of weight she was carrying. She gripped the steps tightly as the weight of her friend choked her. She was trying to hurry, but it truly was a tall ladder. Her oxygen supply was depleting, and she still had another half of the ladder to go. She maintained control of their descending bodies despite the encroaching black in her vision. She did not hear the male voice below her and only when she collapsed on the ground with her best friend on top did her vision somewhat clear. Lucy's deadweight pinned the little record's keeper to the marble floor, making oxygen consumption increasingly difficult. A head of pink hair illuminated by nearby torches filled her view. Then she heard him.

"Levy! What in hell were you thinking?!" He scolded. She gave a weak smile at the sound of concern in the pinkette's voice.

"Sorry, Natsu," she apologized. She felt him undo the knotted cord around her friend's wrists. Levy rolled onto her side when Lucy had been removed. She pushed herself into a sitting position and watched with a surprising ache in her heart as her best friend was cradled so lovingly in the man's arms.

"Lucy rang the bell," she stated, answering the question he had yet to ask.

"Thanks, Lev'," he responded. He shifted Lucy onto his back, bearing her weight with much more finesse. "Gramps and everyone are on their way to Old Town. You coming?" He was already walking away down the hall towards the exit.

Levy hesitantly stood on her bare feet, giving herself a chance to breath and her blood to reach her extremities.

"Yeah, I'm coming. I—" a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her and she leaned against the wall for support until it passed.

Levy opened her eyes and the pink haired man was gone. Slightly miffed, Levy started down the same passage; her bout of dizziness vanished. When the silence grew too loud, she picked up her pace, the sound of her feet and rustling of fabric helped to keep the oppressive demons of her mind at bay.

In a spur-of-the-moment, Levy dashed up the corridor towards her dorm. If she was never going to see any of her possessions again, she immediately knew what she would regret to leave behind. Landing in the hall, she raced to the end where her room was located. She threw the door wide, greeted by dust motes and an earthy scent, and instantly dove into her night-stand drawers. She retrieved two leather bound books and stuffed them into a canvas bag. With great care, she also retrieved an unusual jeweled necklace. Order members were not allowed to keep jewelry for fear of vanity, but her little keepsake was special. She clasped the long, liquid gold chain around her neck and spared an admiring glance to the heavy trinket on the other end. It was an amethyst in the shape of a knife. There was no handle, as it appeared to have been broken at some point in its life, but she still loved the rough, textured edges and rich color. She tucked the pendant into her robe, feeling it settle in the shallow valley of her cleavage.

One last item: a true knife that had been hidden beneath her mattress upon her acceptance into the cloister. She refused to initiate violence, but defending oneself was another matter. She believed it was necessary.

She peeked out her window curtains when she heard the sound of horses whinnying. Reeling back at the sudden crowd of strangers atop horses, she immediately went into panic mode and dashed out of her room with her things in-tow. Frustrated tears streamed down her face at her naivety. How could she have been so stupid to waste time?

She wove through the maze-like hallways towards the front exit with impressive speed. She leapt across ornate walkways and over railings until she reached the massive, dark wood doors. She paused with her hand on the handle, intently listening to the booming voice outside.

"Spread out! Search the town!"

Suddenly realizing her escape was cut off, Levy was going to have to slow the bandits down. Being as little as she was, there was no way she was going to be able to move the heavy beam to bolt the door. Eyeing the warrior statue nearby, it's spear would have to do. She jerked the long rod from its resting place and dropped it in the metallic sockets.

Levy gave a screech and jumped when the doors were fiercely shoved. The solid rod bent with the force and Levy was petrified with fear when the doors where shoved a second time, still not giving way to open. There was a a long pause after the second attempt and Levy could not make out what was being said. She crept closer to the door to hear better.

She heard heavy boots coming up the steps and a jingling of something she could not identify. Another pause followed that was filled with the sound of her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

A series of light knocks struck the heavy door.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gajeel was no fool.

He knew the town would be empty the second he heard their town's warning bell. Their little watchman saw to that. Where the villagers went, he hadn't the slightest clue. He half-expected them to take to boats and swim away, as it was their only real escape route. Coming down the cliff side was no easy task, especially with horses and wagons. How they would manage going up them, he had no idea.

He was somewhat disappointed to be met with no opposing force. Simply riding straight through the town was quite unnerving and he felt ill-at-ease. He eyed every window of every building for possible threats, but all he saw were empty homes, some with food sitting uneaten on tables. They were coming up on the largest of their town's architecture; the one he hoped would house the details he was searching for.

"Spread out! Search the town!" he ordered. Their raid would now proceed uninhibited by villagers. He gestured for two of his men to enter the large hall before them. It's grandeur and splendor had no effect on Gajeel; his sole purpose was inside.

His men tucked their shoulders down and collided with the massive doors, immediately recoiling from the weak, yet formidable resistance. Their action was repeated, and met with the same results. Irritated, Gajeel dismounted and approached the doors, his men slinking away. At first, he intended to cut away whatever was behind the door, barring their entrance, but at a hairbreadth distance, he changed his mind. For doors as big as these, it should be properly bolted and much more difficult. Whatever was blocking them now was a foolhardy last-minute attempt.

Raising one steel-clad hand, he rapped his knuckles against the door. He smirked at the novelty, trying to remember the last time such an action was required of him. There was no answer. However, he could sense there was another being on the opposite side.

"Open the door," he asserted.

He made sure no malice colored his tone, though, perhaps he would be granted entrance for being so genteel?

A quiet, yet firm voice responded, "No."

Obviously not. The voice was little, definitely female.

"Ya'd be wise t'open the door. If not, we'll kill you," he promised.

Though he knew he would follow through with such a task whether or not she obeyed, he was trying to scare her. Annoyed and impatient, he crossed his arms over his chest, fully expecting her compliance.

There was a quiet grunt followed by a loud, wooden thud behind the door. The girl gave a pleased outcry before mumbling something along the lines of, "I'd like to see you try." She had bolted the door.

Gajeel gave a slight turn of his head and nodded for his men to enter the hall through the lower windows.

Glass shattered and other items of equal fragility broke. It would not take long until they reached the main hall.

Sounds of a struggle were conveyed through the crevices in the door: a pained grunt, hard physical impacts, a possible body hitting the floor, and a sharp yelp. The bolt in the door was eventually raised and Gajeel shoved the entrance open, knocking the accommodating footman to the floor. The sight of a tiny blue-haired lass extracting the cutting edge of her blade from the thigh of her attacker lay before him. His man crumpled to the ground and she whipped her head around, ready for the next assailant.

She physically lurched when her hazel eyes spotted him. Her mouth fell agape as she gawked. It was the beast on the cliff. She stepped around her crippled attacker, putting more distance between the spellbinding demon and herself. She managed one word, inaudible to his men, but he managed to catch it anyway, "...dragon.."

He was brutish and large. But quite human. His body was covered in shiny black scales, from the tips of his fingers to the bottom of his feet, not a glimpse of skin could be seen, save for his face. He wore no helmet and allowed his long, jet-black hair to fall loosely behind him. His skin was darkly tanned and embellished with small, round piercings. These piercings formed the arch of his brows, studded his nose and lower lip, and adorned his ears in a fashion that Levy would never admit looked attractive on him. He scowled deeply at her, and she gripped the handle of her knife in response, her feet planted into the floor.

He had to admit she was lovely. Her sky blue hair fell past her shoulders in frantic disarray, her skin was a delicious combination of peaches and cream, and probably equally as tasty. She was undeniably short, but her age became apparent when she moved. Bell-like hips swayed beneath her modest cream colored attire, but nothing escaped his gaze. A familiar heat flooded his body and made his heart crack.

Gajeel stalked towards the little blue girl, watching the fear play across her face. He was a short arms-length away from her when she moved to strike him. Unafraid, he deflected her assault and nimbly snatched her right wrist, twisting enough for her to drop her weapon and shout in pain. The sound of her pained voice plucked a strange chord within him and he almost released her.

He hauled her up by her arm, looking into her face. Though her features were contorted with distress, he recognized her.

"Yer the watchman," he sneered.

She met his eyes with her own tear-soaked ones as her face twisted into a cross between hatred and pleading. A usual combination for him, and he had seen it many times before. Why such an expression should bother him now, he did not know. So he pushed it aside.

He addressed the blue-headed female cooly, "Hard to believe ya took down my men here," he spared a glance to those injured, "ya must be quite the spitfire."

She made no comment. She twisted and jerked against the muscular man's grip, her toes barely touching the floor beneath her. She feared her arm would soon be ripped out of socket and in a desperate attempt to free herself, she dropkicked him.

He swiftly blocked the offending leg, fully expecting her to resist him, though he was now more defensive. He smirked as her face fell. A spitfire, indeed.

"Ya have a death wish, Shorty?"

He seized her delicate throat in his opposite hand and released her wrist. He applied just enough pressure, not to hurt her, but to make her focus on him.

"Yer not gettin' off that easy. See them?" He pointed to the men outside and she followed his direction with her eyes. She grappled with the armor covering his hand as the metal cut into her skin when he unconsciously squeezed. From a wagon, two bodies were retrieved and unceremoniously dumped just inside the hall. She could not suppress her sob of horror when she recognized her friends. Though bloodied and bruised, she could tell they were alive and that this man planned to kill them if she did not obey.

He watched her emotions flutter across her face. Leaning in close to her ear he whispered, "They can go free if you tell me what I want to know."

Her skin crawled with unbidden arousal as he released a breath near her ear. She pulled at his pointer finger, trying to relieve the pressure he was suddenly applying. She cut herself on the slivers of plating thanks to her struggles.

She couldn't think of another way out with her life intact or her friend's. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she could not look the red eyed demon in the face when she nodded her reluctant agreement. Surely, they would leave if she gave him what he wanted.

"Good girl," he grunted, slowly releasing her. Levy choked on her sudden gulp of air. Gingerly, she fingered the bruised imprints on her throat. He could have easily snapped her neck if he wanted. She eyed him curiously, taking note of his impressively built stature. He stood almost two heads taller than she. Not very good odds if she wanted to take him down.

The muscular man before her shifted his weight, reaching inside his armor and withdrawing a small, folded piece of parchment. He unfolded it and held it close to her face.

"I'm looking for this," he rumbled.

Instant recognition flashed in her eyes as she saw pieces of the obscure runes she had been working to translate for so long. She instinctively reached for the paper, only to have it held high out of her reach. The giant tsk'ed at her.

"It's rude to take without permission," he grinned. She glared at his teasing jest.

Gajeel could see that the female recognized the parchment. He had finally found the right place after all.

"You're one to talk," she grumbled, but continued, "I don't know what it means."

She gripped her hands together, unsure how to proceed in order to keep her friends alive.

"But I can—" she was cut off by a deafening explosion outside. All eyes turned to the fiery doorway where the raiders once stood in wait. She heard men yelling battle cries and drawing weapons towards an opponent out of her field of sight. Levy was grabbed and violently shaken.

"You know this!" The man yelled at her urgently, "Can you crack it?!"

His blood eyes waited impatiently for her response. He meant if she could translate it, but she had been trying to decipher the runes for years up until this point. Fear welled up in her eyes and spilled into her cheeks. All she wanted was to save her friends. She felt her head bob in the affirmative.

His hand had wrapped around her upper arm, forcibly pulling her with him as he walked through the burning doorway. Levy was faced with horror as her town had caught fire and begun to burn. Another hand clamped over her other arm as she was thrown over a black leather saddle. The horse beneath her moved with uncertainty as she right herself and steadied when it's master swung himself up behind her, leaving an appropriate amount of distance between them.

His arms came forward around her waist and took hold of the reins. Levy was not even given the chance to resist when he spurred the animal to move.

"Move out!" the giant man ordered. He had no need to repeat himself for his men fell into step behind him.

She felt the man behind her give a slight jerk to spur his horse faster. The jostling and speed bounced her mercilessly. She felt as though she would fly off any moment. A strong, leather clad hand gripped hers and placed it over the horn of the saddle. She obeyed his direction and gripped the horn with both her hands trying to steady herself.

He used his body to push her forward, bending her torso over her hands. She was so light, he was afraid she might actually fly off. He resisted the urge to touch her more, knowing it would not be what she wanted.

But for now he was elated and he lead his men up the cliffs and back into the woods from where they came.

Things were going quite well for Gajeel.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay Minions!**

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Chapter 5

It felt as though a week had passed since Levy felt the ground beneath her feet, even though it had only been one day. Her backside had become unbearably difficult to sit on and her arms ached from the strain of holding herself astride. Her robe did not allow for much freedom and so she had resigned herself to sitting side-saddle.

They were walking now in an unknown part of the forest, far south from her home. The trees were so thickly packed together she could not make out a single star in the sky.

Her riding partner sighed and adjusted himself behind her. She paid him no mind as he had not attempted to initiate a conversation, and she, too shy to. Since they had left FairyTail, she had plenty of time to wonder about the man popularly referred to as the Black Steel Dragon. She did not dare turn around, but his hands were in plain sight and fair game as far as she was concerned. Her first impression was of their size. They were most likely as big as her foot, if not bigger. Even though they were concealed in leather and armor, she couldn't help but think about what they would look like. Were they as tan as his face suggested? Her mind conjured many possibilities of what they would feel like too. She imagined them to be warm. Considering his profession, she wondered if he had any scars, or rather _many_ scars. She concluded that if he did, she would like them.

She paused at the turn her thoughts were starting to take.

 _No, Levy. Very wrong_ , she chastised herself. He was a murderer and she was...his...prisoner? Unlikely because he needed her help.

Gajeel was the biggest imbecile he knew. It was a mistake to let the blue-headed watchman ride with him. He should have given her her own horse to ride, or better yet, let her ride with Juvia. He did not want to risk her running away, not when he was so close to figuring out his father's last words. He even abandoned his home in search of its meaning. His father, a clever bastard, had taken the time to inscribe his last words in the old language: runes. Such writing had long since been disused and knowledge of its translation rapidly disappeared. By the time he had come of age, it had all but completely vanished.

His chest filled with an old shame he had not thought about in many years. His father would be crushed if he ever knew of his actions.

He shook off the emotions and repositioned himself in the saddle. The blue-haired temptress was becoming too much for his senses. Every now and then, he leaned forward to catch the scent of her hair, wishing he could drown in it. She smelled like sunshine and almonds. A mouthwatering scent to say the least. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of her neck and shoulders. He liked to watch her musculature compensate for the rocking motion of Pantherlily, tightening and swaying. As the day turned to night, her movements had become more pronounced; she was tired. He let his mind wander to dangerous thoughts unsuitable due to the close proximity they shared. He glanced at her pert little bottom mere inches away. It would take hardly any force at all to pull her against him. He wondered if she was as soft as she appeared.

He released a pent up sigh of frustration, now having to reposition himself to accommodate an equally frustrated appendage of his. He sent a silent 'thank you' skyward for his concealing armor.

It seemed to Levy that he was equally as tired as she was. Her vow of silence was at the breaking point when she was painfully reminded of her growing need to relieve herself. She gnawed on her lower lip, weighing her options (truly, she had none). The brute behind her pulled the studded reins to halt his horse.

"Can we—?"

"We'll set camp here," he interrupted. Levy looked around them, unable to make out much of anything in the dark, but certain figures stood out, trees and horses namely.

One of his men had managed to light a few torches rather quickly and she was given a clear view of her surroundings. There was not much to the clearing, if it could even be called that. It was actually an area with fewer trees. An outcropping of rocks landmarked the furthest point of their settlement, they being the opposite end of a large oval.

The man behind her slid off the horse and started digging through one of the saddle packs. She did not wait for him to retrieve her. Instead, she slid off the same side and fell in a tiny heap. She misjudged the strength in her legs and winced at the new bruises. He hauled her up to her feet and took hold of her hands, clamping a metal bracelet around each of her delicate wrists, locking them. She eyed the cuffs and tested the strength of the chain linking her bondages together.

She raised a thin brow at him and asked, "Why do I need these?"

He had turned back to his horse and unsaddled the beast, shouldering the heavy tack and bags, still holding the long chain attached to her cuffs.

"Insurance," he stated emotionlessly.

So, Levy had been wrong to assume she wasn't a prisoner here.

He lead her across the clearing towards the outcrop of rocks until she stopped in her tracks, resisting to continue. He felt her stop and looked over his shoulder at her, seeing her bite her lip and cross her legs, it was almost comical the way she wiggled. And he almost smiled.

"What's the matter with ya?" he asked, a little too much venom in his tone causing her to grimace at him.

"I have to go," she stated simply.

Not comprehending her meaning, he continued dragging her along until she yanked on the chain with more force than he expected. He was becoming irritated with her defiance and a low growl boiled at the back of his throat. He turned to face her full on and she stood there, resolute.

"I have to GO," she emphasized.

Rolling his eyes at her when he finally understood, he dropped his gear to the ground at his feet. With his hand now free, he started to remove his plated gauntlets. His tan hands had become soft with heat from being trapped inside the leather for so long. He placed his pointer finger and thumb inside his mouth, just past his lower teeth, positioned in a 'C' formation. When he exhaled, a long winded whistle sounded, piercing the dark and sending a hush through the once busy men. There was a light jingling sound accompanied with the light clopping of hooves as the same horse she rode in on had heeded its master's call and stood next to her.

The armored man looped the long chain over the horse's neck and fastened the links together.

"To the river and back. Don't take long," he requested, addressing his horse.

She stared, incredulous at what he was implying.

"You're making the _horse_ go with me?!" she hissed.

He eyed her with a teasing grin, "Would you rather I go with ya, Shorty?"

It was then she was reminded of the fact she was surrounded by gruff men, and this was his solution for privacy, albeit unorthodox. Her eyes fell to her feet in embarrassment as she shook her head 'no'.

He waved them away and the black horse complied, taking the female to their destination. He watched them as he gathered his gear from the ground. She constantly looked around, judging her environment.

"She is afraid," a weathered voice broke Gajeel's opportunity to stare.

Gajeel made a sound similar to a 'hmph'.

"She is alone and far from home. Juvia understands why she is afraid," she spoke softly, giving voice to her musings.

Gajeel was going to toss her a snide remark, but thought better of it. His female companion followed him when he moved to set his gear inside the little rock shelter.

His elfin watchman would soon return and for reasons unknown to him, Gajeel felt apprehensive about her seeing him still armed. He stripped the plates from himself and set them in an orderly fashion within the den, crouching to do so. He unrolled his bedding, eager for a recuperative rest.

"Gajeel?"

He looked up at his friend, slightly disturbed by the turmoil in her grimace.

"She...only knows kindness. The girl," Juvia unconsciously gestured in Levy's direction, "will not help you if you do not show her some compassion."

Juvia truly wanted to comfort the girl. She was brave to have lasted this long without breaking. To watch your home turned to ruin was a sight Juvia understood all too well.

Gajeel picked himself off the ground, rolling over the thoughts in his head.

 _Be kind?_

He looked around their settlement as the scent of food wafted near them. Meat. He had not eaten anything substantial in a while, and a hot meal would set well with him. He would figure out kindness later.

* * *

Levy allowed the animal to lead her to the river. She was tense and constantly looking over her shoulder. She had the feeling she was being watched.

The horse was not much of a reassurance, but when they moved out of earshot of the camp, Levy unloaded her worries to the beast.

"I really hope everyone is safe," her voiced had cracked with longing when she thought about her town on fire. She had to keep reminding herself that is was only the buildings on fire and that the people were still safe. Her people were smart and trusted each other.

She eyed the animal, hoping for some kind of personable response, but she received none.

She heard the sound of trickling water and tripped over some object under her feet. Her foot came forward to catch herself and splashed into the shallow bank of a very wide river. It may have been dark, but the trees could not shade everything, and moonlight reflected off the water, illuminating her way.

She stepped further onto the bank, pulling her robe and bag up to keep from getting wet as she relieved herself. She bunched the fabric in her hands. Her stupid, cuffed hands.

That stupid dragon man was such an idiot. She could run if she wanted to. She reached inside the opening of her tunic when she finished and retrieved a pin Lucy had used to fasten a pleat. She picked the lock on the cuff, concentrating on the hooks and gears inside, pleased to hear the 'click' that sounded before it popped open. She repeated the action on the other cuff, quicker than the first, and dropped the offending iron in the icy water. The horse behind her whinnied threateningly and bucked.

Frightened by his reaction, she backed into the cold river, paying no notice to her now soaked clothes. The current pulled at her feet and she stumbled, regaining her footing on a lodged log. The rushing water now at hip level and she shivered.

The black animal tossed his head and reared at her, stomping along the bank, causing a ruckus.

"What's wrong with you, horse?!" she hollered.

A fleshy snake wrapped around her ankle and she shrieked, kicking at her feet to dislodge the creature.

The large animal on the bank charged the river and reared on his hind legs, coming down to herd the girl under him. Levy dove out of the way, displacing her feet from her log.

A stray kick to the back of her head turned her vision black, and she sunk into an unconscious stupor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello Minions!**

 **I got a little over-excited, so here is the next chapter!**

 **Because I am a nice writer.**

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 **Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6

If Gajeel had not been paying attention, he would've missed the angry noise in the distance. The river was not that far and he expected his little watchman to return a long time ago. He knew she would try to run, but he felt confident the river was cold enough and his horse capable of retrieving her. Pantherlily was a better warden than most of his men, embarrassingly enough.

He stood at the edge of the wood where she had left through and attempted to search the dark woods for them.

 _Be kind, give her space,_ he reminded himself _._

He returned to the blazing fire where Rogue had prepared a thick stew. The girl would not help him if he didn't at least try. Compared to past experiences, he was willing to take Juvia's advice.

A brief scream jerked his and his men's attention to the woods. Something had happened.

He dropped the tin dish of food and broke into a sprint towards the river. A handful of his men joined him, Juvia among them. They reached the lit watercourse, Gajeel whistling for his horse to return to the shore. The blunette was not on the other end of the manacles and he cursed under his breath, searching the deceptively calm river.

He leapt atop his horse, kicking him into a gallop when he spotted her cream colored tunic much farther downstream. Her body was caught in the swirling eddies, pulling her under the surface. He cursed loudly when Lily swerved away from the river to avoid a collision with the trees. Gajeel forced him back to the shore, egging him to jump into the coursing water. It was deeper than what he expected and much colder. The shock from the cold had him sputtering when the level reached his waist, Lily barely able to keep his head above the water.

Her body drifted nearby and he managed to grab her, pulling her head above surface. Her skin had taken on a frightening shade of blue and her lips where purple. He jerked the horse's head back towards shore and spurred him to swim across the strong current.

"C'mon Lil'," he spoke through clenched teeth. The horse's hooves made contact on the riverbed.

They reached the rocky shoreline and Gajeel slid off the beast with the girl over his shoulder. He laid her flat on her back, not feeling any movement from her. He put his ear to her chest, listening to the water slosh in her lungs. He pinched her nose and forced his breath in her body. He sat back and placed his hands over her diaphragm, pushing upward. He locked lips with her again, forcing air into her lungs. Still no response.

"C'mon girl, breathe," he encouraged. He put his ear to her chest, listening to her heartbeat falter.

He placed his lips over hers again, forcing another breath into her. She moved under him, and she coughed when he pulled away. She barely turned aside in time to expel the river water from her body. He felt nothing but relief when held her body and head up from slumping into the sand, giving her time to regain the oxygen she needed. She was alive.

Her body shook violently in his hold, and she was unable to give voice to the fact that she couldn't move. Her mind was still trapped in the icy water prison and she was powerless against the waves of dizziness.

His horse grunted at the approach of Juvia.

"Gajeel, I sent the men back to camp,"

He picked the little woman up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest when she started to cough and her teeth chatter.

"Good. See if you can't find a spare set of clothes," he spoke as he walked past his companion.

Juvia took the reins of Pantherlily and followed. She eyed the river and looked towards the opposite bank. She had already seen the dark haired man emerge from the river, and now he watched them from a distance in the trees. Something inside her quieted her loyalty to her friend as she did not bring up his presence. She hoped he would follow them, if for only the reason to see him again.

* * *

Gajeel broke into the camp space, his men greeting him with worried glances and silence.

"Cobra! Set a fire here," he barked. The purple haired bandit stood and followed his order, taking a lit branch from a nearby campfire and gathering an armful of dried bracken.

Gajeel crouched to enter the small cave that was his shelter and set the girl on the ground near his bedding. Cobra established the new campfire near the mouth of the cave, close enough to fill the space with heat, but far enough to allow the smoke to drift away. The fire warmed Gajeel to the point of discomfort, but the girl still shivered, her lips still tinted dark purple. He looked outside the cave, searching for Juvia to hurry with her clothes. The girl before him pitched forward, and he held her upright by her shoulders. Things weren't going to go well if she stayed wrapped in her wet clothes. He didn't know what else he could do.

He removed his damp linen shirt and tossed it aside. He retrieved his heavy cloak from beside his armor and clipped it around the shaking girl. He pulled the fabric closed around her, but reached inside, pulling her clothing down from her thin shoulders. He saw her processing his actions, and she tried to push his hands away, still shivering uncontrollably. He tried to give her the dignity of his cloak, to shield her from wandering eyes, but she still fought him.

"Quit movin'. I ain't gonna hurt ya'," he growled, "Ya can't stay in yer clothes. You'll freeze."

She closed her eyes and he continued uninhibited as his fingers rubbed against her clammy flesh. He was polite, and did not look. He knew she wouldn't want him to. If the circumstances had been different, he would have felt differently about touching the expanse of her yielding skin. But they weren't and she needed heat. He managed to peel away her clothes and toss them towards wherever his shirt landed.

He pulled the hood up over her head, covering her blue hair and her eyes flew open when he lifted her bare bottom to sit on the bedding. She clenched the opening to the cloak shut, becoming increasingly aware of just how naked she was with this man, and still doing her best to remain upright on her own.

He untied the knot that held his riding pants up and he moved to lay behind the cloaked girl. If he could keep her between the fire and himself, then she would have a chance to survive the night. He drew a blanket out from under them and layered it over himself after he kicked his britches off. She was such a slight bundle and he turned her to face him, pulling her to lay down.

"I promise I won't hurt ya'," he spoke in a soothing baritone.

He laid his arm out for her as a makeshift pillow. She took him up on his promise and laid against him as reluctantly as she could. He spread the blanket over the both of them and he tried to concentrate on something _other_ than her petite form lying so close to him.

Levy was starting to feel much better and she could feel the tangible heat that he radiated through the cloth. Her body demanded that she come to reason. Her mind told her not to touch, but she reached her hand out anyway, needing at least a little more warmth that he could provide.

And she wasn't disappointed. The moment she rested her hand over his heart, delicious heat spread up her arm. She gave a light gasp at the sensation and entirely forgot her shame and modesty. She pressed herself flush against his open skin, wrapping her leg around his waist. She couldn't find it in herself to stop what she was doing.

"Sh-shit shrimp!" he cursed under his breath.

He coughed to hide the sudden shiver that traveled up his spine when the tops of her frozen feet pressed against his thighs. He was at a loss as to what he was supposed to do now. He didn't expect her to react so...willingly. But damn was she cold.

He placed his hands uncertainly against her back, earning a pleased hum from the blunette. She still shivered, but less violently now. He rubbed her back over his long cloak in broad strokes, conveying more heat to her with the friction. Her breathing mellowed out and she was able to draw in smooth breaths. Her body relaxed and she did not pull away from him. She closed her tired eyes and mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

"What?" he whispered, looking down at her hooded head.

"Mm-name's Levy," she repeated as she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

When he was certain she was truly asleep, he responded.

"Kurogane. I'm Prince Kurogane."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello Minions!**

 **I am sorry about all the false updates - for some reason I can only update one story per day or else my other update turns into code. No idea why.**

 **So here's an early update to apologize for the false alarms!**

 **Chapter 8 will be up on Thursday!**

 **Enjoy!  
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Chapter 7

Levy awoke slowly. There was a dull pulse in her skull, and she brought her hand to her head. Her fingers came away slick with sweat and she brushed back her hair that had stuck to her skin.

The evening's events came back to her and she looked at the empty space next to her. She sat up slowly, pulling at the clasp around her throat and drawing the black fabric closed tightly.

She was still naked.

She had slept with another man.

She looked down at the space between her legs. Did they—?

"Yer up."

She gave a slight squeak of surprise, looking over her shoulder. Her savior was dressed in a light colored muslin shirt that tied at the collar. He had the sleeves rolled to his elbows and she noticed the same silver piercings in his face also graced his forearms. The style of shirt accentuated his large frame, but it was thin. She could see right through to his scarred skin beneath it. They were light, compared to how dark the rest of him was, and feathered over his shoulder until they stopped at his right wrist. He looked as though he had once fended off a wild animal. She shuddered to think what the animal looked like now.

Her eyes drifted down to see that he wore dirt brown riding pants with knee-high black leather boots. They were shiny and looked incredibly expensive. Levy was still ogling him until his fingers snapped in front of her nose.

"Y'okay, shorty?"

She blinked and turned away from him, thoroughly embarrassed by her actions. What was wrong with her?!

"Did ya hear me?"

"Huh?" she looked back at him with confusion.

"Clothes," he pointed to the neat pile folded on the opposite side of her, then at the sky behind him, "Rain. Got it?"

She nodded in understanding and he disappeared. The opening to their cave was small, but she was still exposed, even though she couldn't see anyone outside. She picked up the clothes next to her, unfolding the cloth. The shirt was a linen blend, but the collar was too wide to drape around her neck. The pants were ungodly big; she wasn't sure how she would manage wearing them. She unclasped the cape from around her neck, sparing a moment to touch the purple stone pendent between her cleavage. It had survived. She looked around the cramped space for her bag. Had her other things made it too?

Not seeing her possessions, she pulled the cotton shirt over her head. It was just as she suspected: too big.

She wasn't sure how she was going to handle it until she settled the collar off her shoulders, tying the fringe in the front into a delicate bow. She stood and was pleased to see the opaque fabric ended just above her knees. She unthreaded the cord from the pants and tied it low around her hips as a belt. It looked like a shorter version of her robe, but with more sex appeal.

She ran her hands over her hair, knowing it was a wild frizzy mess. She finger-brushed what she could and left the rest up to fate.

The sky indeed grew darker and she stepped out into the dim morning. At least, she thought it was morning. The clearing was entirely empty and void of other people. There were remnants of other campfires, but all had been extinguished. Petrichor scented the air, foretelling the rain to come.

"Done?"

He had snuck up on her again, and she jumped at his sudden presence. He seemed to enjoy her terror as he laughed.

It was a throaty chuckle that sounded just as strange as he looked. His shoulders bounced and he held his stomach, probably trying to contain his mirth. When he exposed his teeth in a smile, she noticed his canines were unusually long. It was a terrifying, yet contagious expression. One that made her forget her anger and smile in return.

Remembering himself, Gajeel ducked inside their little den and retrieved the remaining bedding and items.

"What's your name?"

The question was innocent enough, but he started at it anyway, trying to play it off with a roll of his shoulders.

"Gajeel," he replied.

She seemed to take the answer in stride, but what he didn't notice was the way she whispered it to herself; rolling it off her tongue and tasting the way it sounded.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, turning to watch him.

He was tying off the rumpled blankets and already had his cloak hooked around his shoulders. Noticing how large it was on him, she thought she must have looked as though she were drowning in it when she wore it. She missed it's comforting heavy weight.

"Gone ahead. We'll meet up after Magnolia."

He stepped out of the shelter and whistled for his horse who came trotting in from behind the outcropping. In the daylight, the horse looked much more fearsome and he intimidated her.

Gajeel strapped on the bedding and adjusted the saddle and tack for a tighter fit. The animal didn't move an inch despite its master's tugging. She noticed the red strap of her bag peeking out from one of the saddlebags. He packed it for her?

"Get on," he commanded.

He walked around to the side closest to her and laced his fingers together in a makeshift step. She crept closer and placed her bare foot in his hands, but before she could step up, the animal swung his great head around and gnashed his teeth at her. She stumbled back out of reach and puffed her cheeks in irritation.

"He was going to bite me!" she practically screeched.

Gajeel rolled his eyes and gave a half-hearted swat to the animal.

"Bad horse. Now let's go."

Levy glared at him with puffed cheeks and he groaned, standing upright and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe if y'apologized fer makin' him go swimmin' in that fuckin' cold river, then he wouldn't be s'mad at ya."

She contemplated the idea, then dismissed it.

"He's a horse. He doesn't understand."

The man addressed the black beast next to him, "Ya hear that? She ain't sorry fer runnin' off. No 'thank you' fer savin' her ass either."

The horse snorted as a response and shook his mane. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that that animal actually understood what he said.

She steeled herself with fisted hands and walked around to the front of the animal, giving him a wide girth.

The man watched her with growing curiosity. She gave him a tired look of disbelief before he gestured for her to continue. The horse raised his head expectantly, ears turned towards her.

"I'm very sorry you had to get in the water...," she paused, trying to think if she even knew the beast's name.

"Pantherlily," he interjected.

She quirked a quizzical brow at the man before continuing. Apparently, he read minds.

"I'm very sorry you had to get in the water, _Pantherlily_ ," she emphasized and added, "and thank you for saving me."

The horse bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

"Now pet him," he instructed.

The horse had lowered his head down to her level for the expected affection.

She reached out a shaky hand tentively. She patted his fuzzy nose and the beast leaned into her palm, eager for more attention. The animal pressed his face into her torso and she rewarded him with a hug and smiles. She was genuinely pleased to have earned the horse's acceptance. Gajeel was quite smitten when Lily had started nibbling her ribs, causing her to giggle. It was that gentle peal of laughter that made him hide his feelings beneath the hood of his cloak.

"Rain's comin', shorty. Let's go."

She placed a kiss on Lily's nose and hopped into the saddle with his help. She rode like a man this time, sitting with a leg on either side of the horse. She wasn't sure how she felt about having to sit on the hard leather for hours on end, though. She scooted as far forward as she could to give the man room to climb on.

He placed his foot in the stirrup loop and swung himself up behind her. She settled her rear-end against his groin and he physically stiffened at the contact. He dug inside his pack for a stray blanket and pulled it free. He rolled it into a decent cushion and gave her thigh a brazen tap.

"Up," he directed as he placed the rolled blanket beneath her derrière. It gave her a few inches in height, a delightful relief from the hard leather, and protection from him. She would have never guessed him to be so considerate.

Satisfied with the seating arrangement, Gajeel spurred Lily into a gallop, sending them through the wood to race against the rain.

* * *

"So why Magnolia?"

The little watchman had been trying to strum up a conversation with him for hours. Without his armor, he was slowly being driven mad from the light touches he received from said little watchman.

He liked how her attire displayed her shoulders. They were pale and delicate. He salivated at the thought of running his tongue along the curve where her throat conjoined with the smooth muscles. That cloister robe covered up far too much and he was grateful it was packed safely away.

"You ask too many questions," he pointed out. Truly, her attempts were starting to get on his nerves.

"Considering the fact you destroyed my home, I don't think a few answers in return are such a big deal."

Her tone of voice was biting and it made Gajeel feel more like a prick for it. If he talked, maybe she wouldn't bring it up again.

"Its closest. And it has a library. I figured if y'needed somethin' to help ya figure it out, it would be there."

She perked up at this new bit of information. She had so few memories outside of her home, so visiting an archive that she hadn't memorized was a treat.

"My home had a library," she pointed out, stressing the past tense.

He snorted and contradicted, "No it didn't."

His remark angered her. How would he know?

"Is it big?" she asked.

He hadn't been paying attention to her words and her question triggered the erogenous part of his brain.

"Bigger than you could handle," he grinned shamelessly. He could make such a face without fear of her seeing what he really meant. He leaned into her back, forcing her to bend forward to avoid the low-hanging branches.

She was quiet for a few moments and he thought she might have recessed back into her thoughts. The silence became pleasant for the first time since they started out this morning.

"Can we stop?"

He slowed Lily to a walk and took in their environment. She was tired, but he had noticed a few miles back that they were being followed.

"No."

She groaned, "How do you ride for so long?"

Levy chaffed her thighs with her hands, trying to ease the soreness.

"Practice," he stated, slightly miffed, but continued, "it helps if you have a foothold."

He wiggled his booted foot in the stirrup for emphasis. His horse nickered under him and pawed the ground. He shifted nervously and peeled his ears back, alert to something they were not.

"What's wrong?" she asked, nervous about Lily's strange behavior.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye in the forest off to the right. A blur of fur farther ahead, as well.

"Time to go," he whispered hurriedly, not taking his eyes off the predator hiding in the bracken before them.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

He didn't know when they had started following them, but that was irrelevant at this point. He kicked Lily into a canter.

Levy was struggling to situate herself with the horse's rough gait and would have fallen if Gajeel had not had his arms around her for the reins.

A crack of thunder shattered the air, followed by a downpour of rain, instantly drenching the area. Gajeel jerked his fallen hood up and leaned into the girl's ear.

"Get down!" he yelled.

She immediately obeyed and bent herself over the saddle, her face brushing Pantherlily's coarse neck. There was a slight pressure applied to her lower back, and she realized he had copied her position, trying to reduce the wind resistance and avoid low-hanging obstacles.

She tried to gather her bearings despite the ridiculous bouncing the poor horse was causing.

As Gajeel wove between the patches of trees, with no clear trail defined, a break appeared in the forest that bespoke a smooth road.

Where there were roads, there were cities. They were almost to Magnolia.

Gajeel searched the forest around them, and spotted the animals that had been following them. They were large, northlandic wolves, about as big as Pantherlily. They did not travel so far south, due to the combination of sweltering temperatures and thick fur hides, and they certainly did not travel alone. So far, he could only spot two of the creatures, one on each side of them. Their formation was slightly off, and something about their stride made him think they were not hunting, merely following.

They came upon the gravel road and Gajeel jerked the reins to the side to keep them on the path headed towards the city. The rain continued to pour and large puddles had formed in pockets of the path. He felt they would be safe so long as they stayed near man-made structures. Animals as big as the wolves tended to avoid human territory.

There were many bends and turns in the road. Levy sensed the relax in tension from Gajeel and also calmed down. The trees were beginning to thin and suddenly stopped completely to reveal massive stone walls higher than all the buildings in her village. Despite the dark clouds that blotted out the sunlight, a flash of lightning lit up the entering gate to the city. They approached at ramming speed until a guard appeared in their path, forcing a curse under Gajeel's breath to bring them to a skidding halt.

"State your business!" he called over the downpour of rain, clearly shaken by the fact he was almost trampled, but still stood firm with spear and shield in hand.

"Lodging."

Gajeel hoped they would not need identification or paperwork just to get in for a night. He racked his brain for a second plan as the guard held a side conversation with another foot soldier.

"There is room at Sabertooth or Mermaid's Heel. Please provide identification for entry," he answered.

Another slew of curses flew from under his breath. It had been too long since he had been to town. Now they were tightening security.

"I am a member of The Order with a message for Master Yajima."

Her little voice broke the abrasive silence with an air of authority.

"From which Order?" he countered.

She stumbled over her words for a second, remembering that her town wasn't actually supposed to exist.

"Th-that is restricted information. I was told to expect no trouble for entry."

Another side conversation was held and Gajeel looked over his shoulder to the forest they left from. Perhaps it was the adrenaline playing tricks on his sight, but he would have sworn two pairs of eyes stared back at him from the woody shelter.

"Master Yajima was not expecting you for some time, miss. And he only expected one messenger," he eyed the hulking figure behind her.

"My bodyguard, Captain," she lied.

The guards appeared satisfied with their story and motioned for them to enter. She released a pent-up sigh with relief as they passed through the large gate into cobblestone streets.

Pantherlily fell into a spirited trot as they made their way through the dreary streets.

"Bodyguard, huh?"

She smiled to herself for her quick-thinking.

"It was that or you were my brother," she looked back at him to his face under the shelter of his dripping hood, "which I don't think they would have bought."

He brought his attention back to their location and found himself at an crossed-intersection of walkways and streets. Even though it was early afternoon, all shops had closed up for the weather, not expecting any customers to tread through water to get to them. He looked down at the head of blue hair nestled against him under his cloak. She still seemed content with her situation and he wondered if her resilience had anything to do with how she ended up on the edge of the world in an unknown town.

Gajeel pulled the reins to the left for Pantherlily to take the path leading towards the clearly marked inn, Sabertooth.

"Who's Yajima?" he asked out of curiosity for the roots of her story. Every lie told held a sliver of truth. She had been quick to think of it, too, hence his question.

"Magnolia's Order Master," she answered.

"Y'know 'im?"

She shifted slightly, bending her head ever so slightly downward.

"No, but my Master does," she was becoming uncomfortable talking about her master and the Order.

Gajeel paused around the back of the inn near the stables where a young stable hand lept from his napping position at the gate. They dismounted inside the shelter and Gajeel paid the boy a silver coin, instructing him in where the packs go and what Lily needed taken care of. The child, no taller than Levy's waist, nodded ecstatically and did as he was told. Levy had never seen such a transaction before. Was that how money worked? No barter system, just a monetary exchange? Levy thought the idea of money was self-destructive and wrinkled her nose.

Levy's world tilted suddenly, her knees taken out from under her, and her shoulders brought up by a large, warm hand.

"What are you doing?!" she asked breathlessly.

He was confounded by her reaction (and lack of weight), though he thought it was obvious. There was more than just dirt and dead grass in the city limits, as he stepped over said rotten pile of manure and trash. He walked up to the entrance of the establishment and placed the girl on the threshold before pushing the door open.

The drinking hall was packed with patrons and boisterous conversation. The stench of burning meat and rum foretold a dismal meal ahead and the gaudy, taxidermic sabertooth over the fireplace did not lessen the tackiness of the joint.

He counted at least twenty-five people in the establishment. Too many for his comfort. He steered the blunette towards a recently vacated corner table and took a seat across from her, his back to the wall.

Levy noticed he did not remove his hood or cloak, despite their close proximity to the fireplace. The establishment itself was quite large, though run down and beer soaked. She recalled a few occasions where she and her friends visited Cana's tavern back home, but upon comparison, she realized she had grown accustomed to a higher standard of living. Where Cana's place was polished and orderly, here there was grime in nearly every crevice and shoddy repair work done on almost every piece of furniture. The fireplace seemed to receive the most (if not all) care as there was a difference in the wood grain between it and the tables. It was the one thing that seemed to be regularly cleaned. Even though it was a drastic change from her home, she felt at ease amongst the rambunctious regulars. Her own friends had a tendency to get as carried away as folks here, as exhibited by the drunken bets flying across tables, and she was pleased to find that people were not so different hundreds of miles away.

A tankard of frothy gold liquid was placed before her nose and the distinct scent of hops wafted from the moist mug.

She turned to see inky tresses fall around a scantily clad frame of hips and bosom. She craned her neck up to see the face of their hostess and found her to be riddled with faded scar tissue and a patch covering one eye. Her scowl and piercing gaze indicated a foul mood, and Levy was hesitant to take the proffered beverage.

"A room and food."

Gajeel had retrieved more silver coins from an unknown location and handed the currency to the barmaid, dropping the metallic coinage in her outstretched palm.

"Short on both" she answered with a biting rasp. She sounded as though she had a sore throat. Gajeel did not look up at the woman when he spoke again.

"You'll manage."

He knew the going rate for a room, as well as food. He had not been out of the city for that long and he knew better than to make the mistake of showing how heavy his coin purse was. They would charge him for every cent he had for every drop of beer he drank.

The exchange seemed odd to Levy. When the woman walked away, she noticed there were people staring at them. Grim faces muttering to one another with pointed glances in their direction. Levy was instantly irked by the attention.

"Gajeel," she whispered, "why're people staring?"

The hooded figure before her had taken a long swig of his drink before setting it down, apparently ready for a refill. He dried his mouth with the back of his hand and answered.

"Y'know many people with blue hair, shorty? They don't."

For some reason, his supposition angered her.

"That isn't a good enough reason to stare. Maybe they're looking because you won't take off your hood," she reached out to flick said covering off his head, which he smoothly avoided.

She tried to curb her irritation by way of a scapegoat, "They can tell you're hiding."

He lowered his head, but she could still see the sharp sneer from within the darkness of his drawn hood.

"'Better to forget the cloak than to remember the man,'" he quoted.

She grumbled over the validity of his point and took a sip of the golden alcohol. The rim was gritty on her lips, but when the beer passed through, she drank deeply to quench her thirst. It was bitter and tasted awful, but she had forgotten the last time she had eaten or drank anything. She tipped the mug back to the steady table as she gave a loud and crass burp. It was so unexpected, she slapped her hand over her mouth, mumbling apologies.

It took everything Gajeel had not to bust out in a fit of laughter. It was the last thing he expected from her and it was...cute. The word did not seemed to do her justice, but when she tipped the flagon back for another drink, it occurred to him that she was an Order member, and from what he knew of them from his childhood, they do not drink. He was about to remove the drink from her grasp until she set it back on the table, now empty. It wasn't his responsibility to keep her in line with Order rules or traditions, but didn't she know?!

She wavered in her seat, blinking slowly as the alcohol entered her bloodstream. He should have known she would have been a lightweight. He moved the mug out of her reach and crossed his arms on the table in front of him. She mimicked his actions and squinted her eyes to see the man under the hood.

"You're bossy," she stated. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers and tilted her head to the side to rest the sudden weight against her shoulder.

"Order members don't drink, little girl." He ignored her comment. Maybe she needed a little reminder.

"Maybe they don't. But I can," she slurred.

"Who's 'they'?" he asked, trying to feign disinterest.

"Other members," she hiccupped and continued, "like Yajima. Or Ichiya. My Order is old. Master doesn't like the new rules."

She looked around their table for her missing tankard and was visibly disappointed to find it had disappeared from where she left it. He took her mug of beer and downed the last few ounces in it, unaware of the glare she dealt him. She certainly didn't need it. What she needed was food to sober up.

"'Sides, s'not like the rules change anythin'," her speech had begun to deteriorate.

"What do you mean?" she had peaked his interest.

"All Orders are 'upposed t'take care of the citizens," her brow furrowed with concentration, trying to follow the thought through, "like homeless people, orphans, 'nd we also spread news, like the decrees the King puts out. Like the new one 'bout mercenaries bein' given free stuff if they worked for 'im."

She rubbed her eyes, feeling the drowsy effects starting to take place. Gajeel knew exactly what she was talking about. No king was to take the throne until he came of age, but when the king died, the corruption began to show through: stealing land, raising taxes, declaring war on neighboring, peaceful countries. He was accumulating quite a debt to his country, but he had no intention of taking it over. Proving he was the heir was a headache in itself. There was no way he'd be able to handle the politics that went along to running the country. That was his father's burden, not his. The steward had begun sanctioning decrees to allow his so-called army to carry out his dirty work. It seemed free room-n-board made the top of the list now.

"'Cept Master doesn't like the King now. S'why we're all hiding. Mum didn't either."

He nodded in acknowledgment. Many people had left the country to avoid persecution. Those who voiced their opinion would be on the receiving end of a miserable life imprisoned. Her little snippets of information were quite revealing, however. It seemed her family had been a part of that noisy crowd and left to make their own settlement. But it did not explain the obvious beauty of her home. He recalled marbled floors of her cloister, as well as sophisticated ornamentation carved into all woodwork. It reminded him of his home when his father had still been alive.

"We were the settlers, first people to put in roots, start the cities. But some people didn't like havin' to be so nice to each other," she frowned, "We like helpin'. That's all we do. We don't care who you are, what you've done. Everyone deserves kindness and forgiveness. We do what no one else does. Accept each other."

He had been drifting in and out of her ranting stupor, caught in his own thoughts. It appeared as though she was sobering, but he dismissed that thought when she hiccupped and tilted in her seat.

He did not know what the purpose of the Order was, but it seemed that they were a community of people held together by a mutual agreement of ideals. A founding people.

"So what's this 'bout 'new rules' you were sayin'?" he caught the eye of their barmaid and motioned for her.

Levy perked up at the sound of his voice.

"Stupid lookin' uniforms. Order Council wants us all to dress modest-like, but Master says they're not practice-able."

Gajeel smiled at her mistake. Practical, he corrected.

She put her hands to her cheeks as though she was feeling them for the first time.

"My drunk?!" she exclaimed a little too loudly.

Already forgetting her statement, she latched onto another thought from their previous night.

"Did we have sex?" she managed to ask her question in a hoarse whisper.

He mentally backtracked to where she would have gotten that idea.

"No, we didn't," but he wanted to. He ran his fingers over the piercings in his lower lip, amused by her drunken state.

"What is the name of your town?"

As though fate were intervening, their hostess appeared with their meal, sliding the bowls on the table, and sloshing some kind of goo over the dish edge.

"Room seven when you're ready," she grumbled as she walked away.

Levy was hypnotized by the amount of food before her. She could have easily worn the bowl as a hat and was tempted to, but she focused on the food inside it instead. It was some kind of boiled meat with over cooked vegetables in a thick and over-seasoned sauce graced with a torn heel of wheat bread. It looked terrible, but smelled divine. She located her utensil and brought a small bite of vegetables to her mouth, not yet ready to try the mystery meat. Though her senses were dull, she could still taste how awful it actually was. And despite how bad it tasted, her stomach viciously growled for more nourishment. She decided to avoid the meat for safety's sake and practically wiped the bowl clean with the crust of bread she had.

She had been so focused on her meal, that she did not notice Gajeel watching her. It was an odd experience for him. He had not shared a meal with anyone in years and even went to great lengths to avoid the past time. She was polite and clean, taking small, equally portioned bites, and chewing thoroughly. She clearly didn't like it by the way her mouth turned downward after swallowing, but he assumed she was just trying not to be rude.

He downed the food in a rush as activity in the barroom picked up steadily. More patrons were being greeted rather than dismissed and he took that as their queue to leave. He lifted her out of her seat by her upper arm and pushed her ahead of him towards the back of the lounge where the stairs were located. She tripped and stumbled over her feet, protesting the harshness of their departure by fighting his grip. He did not intend to be rough, but he was suffocating under the amount of people and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight.

"—hell, man?!"

A meaty hand stopped Gajeel from continuing to the stairs. He faced his drunken opponent with an air of condescension.

"Don't tink she wants t'go, man."

A rather large and portly man staggered on heavy feet. He was clearly too drunk to know better, but he'd be a damned fool not to teach him a lesson. He clenched his fist and widened his stance, ready for a fight.

There was a round of catcalls in the crowd and a table of men rose to the oncoming promise of a fight. Though outnumbered, Gajeel knew he would not be beaten.

"Y'should letter go—" a wet belch interrupted his sentence and he lurched.

A soft, gentle hand encircled Gajeel's waist as the little blunette broke his hold to stand at his other side. She pressed herself to his tense body in a possessive manner and brought his clenched fist up to drape over her shoulder. She subtly pried his fingers open to lace her's with his, forcing his cooperation.

"Thank you for your concern gentlemen, but I am fine. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening," her sweet voice carried over the tension and cut through it with her dazzling smile.

The situation seemed pacified and she turned them back towards the stairs, mounting each step in sync with him. He could not help but stare at the little woman as though he hadn't been all night.

What the hell just happened?!

It had come to blows, surely. He must've been knocked unconscious. For the little woman maintained her hold on him. She kept the charade up for appearances, in case someone followed, though no one did.

They approached the door to their room and she pushed it open, disappearing out from under his arm to walk into the darkness. His eyes adjusted and he managed to light a match to a group of nearby candles.

When the room lightened, he was face-to-face with his livid little watchman.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" she screamed.

When Gajeel recovered from the initial shock of her anger, he closed the door to their room to keep her voice contained, locking the deadbolt. She had started pacing furiously.

"Stupid, Gajeel," she muttered.

He didn't know whether to challenge her or be turned on by her. She was turning an impressive shade of red. From her elegant neck to the crown of her blue hair, a mixture of embarrassment, rage, and beer. She had paced a few steps away and he took advantage of the lull, pulling his cloak off from around his shoulders and tossing it over the back of a rickety chair.

"Why're you mad, shrimp?"

She turned on him, "Why'm I mad? Because you almost hurt that guy! All of them!" she gestured wildly, and pointed her finger into his chest, "He was stupid, but wouldn't've felt the need to stop you if you weren't hurting me!"

He grabbed her offending hand angrily, throwing it down to her side. She jerked the sleeve to her right arm down, extracting her limb from the collar, and brandishing her bare, imprinted muscle. Red bands circled it, clearly defining where his fingers had been. It would bruise, certainly. He felt a deep sense of remorse when he also noticed a similar purplish marking around her wrist, from when he had grabbed her days before. His eyes tightened with anguish when he realized she probably had more around her neck, hidden by her cerulean locks.

"You can't treat me like a rag doll," her fuming continued, "if you'd've asked, I would've come...you big gorilla," she tacked on the insult as a last minute jab. Though it did not faze him.

He approached her with heavy steps, tossing her body over his shoulder, and dumping her on the bed. She lost her breath to object, but immediately righted herself to stand on the mattress, his back turned away from her and walking towards the door. He hadn't said a word, just stood there as she raved with a blank expression. Did he even hear her?! She looked around for something, anything to chunk at him. She spied a metal vase on the nightstand.

He needed to leave, to clear his head. Pantherlily was in the stables; he could check on him, make sure he hadn't chewed through the doors to prove a point. That is, until a hollow, metallic **clunk** echoed against the back of his head. He stopped in his tracks, glaring over his shoulder at the seething culprit. She was unafraid, but alcohol did that to people. He had meant to knock her down, put her in her place. He intended to belittle her, bring her to her knees. He was going to give her a true reason to never cross him again. He was the Black Steel Dragon, after all.

But there was fire in her eyes; a defying glint that he recognized. With every step his anger dispersed, bleeding out like hot air leaks into the cold night. He moved too quickly; he was already in front of her. The bed, plump as it might be, was low, almost set flush against the floor, but it had an advantage. While on the floor, she was only as tall as his chest. Now, standing on the pallet, she was as tall as he was.

Her gaze didn't falter. His blood red eyes hypnotized her like a cobra and its prey. He broke eye contact first, for a millisecond, sparing a fleeting glance to her lips, coming back to her eyes. The uneasiness in the atmosphere caught fire, and she blinked. Now taking him in, his warm eyes bespoke a loneliness and longing she had only heard about through her books. In truth, he was not as frightening as she first thought. He could have killed her, or let her be killed, a long time ago. Yet, he hadn't. Either the reports were wrong, or this was a different man.

She brought her hands up, fixating on his parted mouth, and leaned into him until she could taste his ragged breath on her tongue. She touched his hard jaw with gentle fingertips, hoping he would kiss her and release her from his fiery, blood red spell.

A light knock sounded at their door.

They halted, reality rearing itself. He was the first to turn away, and stomp towards the door. A boy stood on the opposite threshold, their saddle packs in hand. Gajeel took them and nodded his thanks. He closed the door slowly, not sure how to return to the room and face the humiliation that awaited him. He wanted her, bad enough that he regretted not kissing her. He should have kissed her.

An ugly truth erected itself from the back of his mind. This was not the plan.

He set the bags on the desk and gutted up enough courage to at least peek to see what she was doing. Her one arm still hung out the top of her dress, and she was sitting, not standing. She crossed her ankles, hands folded carelessly in her lap. She didn't appear sad, just pensive. She tore into the awkward silence with a breathy statement.

"We should go to bed."

He nodded in agreement. It had been a difficult couple of days and some peace would be welcome. However, he wasn't about to sleep on the floor, and the chair didn't look as though it could hold his dead weight on its best day. He gave a fleeting thought to sleeping with her, but would not allow himself to continue that as it would be giving in to the erogenous part of his brain that always managed to get him in physical trouble where she was concerned.

She shimmied under the thin blanket, not bothering to change her clothes for she had no others, and flopped onto the only available pillow.

The pallet could comfortably fit two people with enough space for a small third person. She patted the space in front of her, suggesting her so-called bodyguard join her. She could tell he wanted to decline, but too many nights in the wilderness made him too weak to refuse. He tossed his shirt and boots, taking a second to distinguish the light from the candles, and crawled into bed.

Their previous almost-kiss did not ignite another heady moment when he laid down with his back to her, leaving a full body of space between them. He decided to sleep on top of the blanket and use his arm for a pillow. In truth, he needed proper rest, and a scrawny, blue-haired temptress was not going to prevent that. He felt her curl against his back, her forearms pressed flat to him and her head between his shoulder blades. She wasn't nearly as cold as before and he was grateful for that.

"Sorry for hittin' you," she whispered.

He wasn't expecting her to speak and when she did, he didn't move.

"Sorry fer grabbin' you," he answered.

He could feel her smile and he reacted in kind.

The rain had managed to lighten, but would not cease until the wee hours of the night. The occupants of room seven slept soundly after a while and did not notice the shifting shadows beneath the bolted door, nor did they notice the handle of that locked door turn for entry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello my loyal minions!**

 **This is an early update, as I may not update on Thursday.**

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* * *

Chapter 10

 _The smell of blood was tangible in the air. There was so much of it. Bright red spreading like spilled ink against crisp, white bed sheets. What didn't seep out of the body, still bled inside. There was no coming back from the injury, and he knew it. He didn't think it would happen, he had been assured and reassured they were safe. What bullshit._

 _"Boy, it is nothing to fear."_

 _His father had never spoken so gently before, so he stopped his sobbing to listen._

 _"In the drawer, there is a message for you," his father gestured with one unsteady hand to his dresser, "It is not safe here, you have to run."_

 _As a boy, Gajeel was timid, and often came to his father's bed in the night to wait out the dark. Nothing could get him when his father was so close. But this night was different. His fortress of safety within the heavy blankets was violated and now stained. He slid off the bed and fetched the message his father mentioned. He was afraid of the dark and of what was happening. He returned to his father's bedside with the paper in hand. He eyed the jagged and raw wounds on his father's exposed chest. The doctor promised he would recover. But someone didn't want that to happen. That someone had visited him in the night. What they didn't know, was the young prince had witnessed the crime._

 _"Visit the woman in the mountain. You will be safe there. Just come back," his words were diminishing, and the Iron King rested his head back on the cushions, making the young boy panic._

 _He dared not speak. He could only stare with horror-filled eyes as the life left his father's body._

 _The door to the room swung open, slamming against the wall. A tall figure stood silhouetted against the light in the hall and stomped towards the boy with a blood stained knife._

The Iron King's son awoke violently. He bolted upright in bed, choking on the sudden intake of air. He blinked slowly, coming back to the present. He allowed his eyes to adjust to muted light. He found himself beneath an itchy scrap of cloth passing as a bed covering. He rubbed his face to remove the gathering beads of sweat.

"Just a nightmare," he mumbled.

His waking movements caused a certain sleeping blunette to moan, shifting in her sleep. He started and slew of curses flew from his breath. He had forgotten she was there.

She was on her side facing him and had folded her hands against her chest. Her leg was bent between his and when she stirred again, she moved her knee up between his thighs, curling in on herself and into the vacant space he left behind him. She must have gotten cold in the night.

He watched her eyes and lips wiggle and twitch in her dreamscape. Her breathing quickened, then slowed, a content sigh escaping her lips. A hint of envy made him scowl at her peaceful expression. He wondered what she could be dreaming about. He noticed her mouth move as if to form words, an unconscious conversation. Another break in the clouds leaked a bright ray of sunshine in their window. With the amount of light in the room, his fascination was short lived and his watchman stirred awake with a deep inhalation. He deftly shifted her knee away from him in case she reacted adversely.

He slipped away from her warmth and out of bed towards the saddle bags. He glimpsed her pulling the flat pillow over her face, hiding her mop of azure curls. He watched her intently, noticing her breathing had slowed again into slumber. The blanket had bunched around her waist and left a pair of dainty bare feet exposed to the open environment. He tilted his head as an odd thought struck him. She probably had no need for shoes if she remained in her cloister home. He dug through the saddle bags until he located her red canvas bag. He flipped the top open and retrieved two books. Though water-stained, he flipped through the dry pages, uninterested in the contents. One appeared to be a story of some kind, and the other a journal. He retrieved her dried cloister robe and then peered into a dark emptiness. She had no ink or pen for her journal, nor did she have shoes of any kind. His conscience would not allow him to let her wander Magnolia with bare feet, and so after he dressed and latched his cloak around his shoulders, he stalked out the door.

As a compromise, he decided he just didn't want to carry her everywhere. Though, even by just thinking it, it sounded tremendously false.

* * *

Levy awoke well-rested. It was the best night sleep she had had since leaving home. She stretched her arms over her head, inhaling an increasingly familiar scent: a heavy musk lingering with notes of some sort of spice. She felt the empty space next to her and used the cold sheets to cool herself, arching her back and curling her toes against the strain she contorted her body into. The room was silent. Though she didn't open her eyes, she knew he must have left. It felt good to sleep in. She was still sore from riding, but it was a pleasant pain. One that meant she was getting stronger.

She pressed the lone cushion to her face and inhaled deeply, trying to prolong her happy thoughts. At the thought of Gajeel coming back, her pillow was plucked from her face, and she rubbed her eyes to bring the hulking figure into focus.

"Oi, get up," he grumbled.

She noticed his change in attire. Or rather, a change in his overall appearance. He wore a thick headband that covered the piercings in his brows and his mane of raven hair had been tamed into a single braid that fell over his shoulder. He wore dark clothing and a darker cloak with black fur lining the inside with the hood resting against his back. He was roguishly handsome, and she couldn't stop her erratic heart from making her cheeks pool with crimson heat.

"Did ya hear me, shrimp?" he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

She snatched the pillow away from him, clutching it to her chest, preparing to yell at him for scaring her. He jerked the blanket away from her, baring her naked legs to the elements.

"Hey!" she protested.

He threw a bundle of clothes to the bed and she sat up to examine the rumpled pile.

"2 minutes," he held up the according fingers and stomped out of the room. She noticed their packs were missing from the chair, save for her red bag.

She unraveled the tangle of clothes to find brown riding pants, a white top, shiny brown boots, and a light gray cloak lined with white fur. There was a pair of straps and a thin holster for a knife. She unsheathed the blade, admiring the elegant, yet simple detailing in the handle. It was small, and light. It suited her. She replaced the knife in its sheath and dressed herself in a rush. He only gave her two minutes, after all.

* * *

She was hopping around trying to cram her foot into her other boot. She backed into a wall to support her balance as she wiggled and flexed her foot in vain. It should fit. The other boot fit. So why wasn't it sliding on? The wall interjected a comment on her struggles.

"Wrong foot."

She whirled on the studded man.

"Sweet Mavis, you're built like a mountain! Warn a girl, would ya?!" she huffed.

He smirked at her comment and was pleased to see that the new clothes fit her perfectly. It seems his time spent staring at her hadn't gone to complete waste. He gestured for her to sit and she obeyed, taking a seat in the dilapidated chair. He pulled her boots off and motioned for the correct limb, sliding the polished leather over thin ankles and skin tight clothing. He noticed the knife strapped to her other calf as he slid the remaining boot over it. He bought it on impulse, remembering that hers had been left behind. He wondered if she liked it. If Juvia was anything to base women off of, they liked shiny things.

"Ready?" he asked, trying not to take notice of her clearly defined figure.

Though when she turned to reach for her bag, he openly ogled her rear-end.

"Yeah, but why a fur cloak? It's not that cold outside," she clipped the down fur around her throat regardless of her question.

"We're inland, shorty. Weather changes overnight here," he explained.

She accepted his explanation, though did not believe him. It was springtime at home. That shouldn't change too drastically just because they put some distance between them.

Levy was excited to explore the city and practically bounced out the door, until a force took hold of her hood and held her back.

"What?" she snapped.

In his fingers, he held a brown headband.

"Yer hair," he gestured with the band.

Suddenly self-conscious, she snatched the cloth from his fingers and tied the band over her unruly hair. The knot was fairly large and felt awkward at the base of her skull, so she slid the cloth around her hair to position it over her ear. The remaining ends of the band seemed to frame her face nicely, but she had no mirror to confirm this. She looked at the studded giant who was watching her with a strange expression scrawled across his face.

"What?" she asked, now worried she managed to make herself look like a rooster.

He seemed to struggle with himself, holding his hand mid-air between them. The dark tint of his cheeks grew darker with what she could only guess was a blush and she jumped to the conclusion that she looked worse than her predicted rooster hairdo. She quickly jerked the band out of her hair, trying her best to finger-brush the strands into obedience. She readjusted it atop her head like she had it before, with the ends hanging by her cheek.

When she finished, he pulled the fur-lined hood of her cloak over her head, hiding the alluring color. She attracted enough attention the night before; he didn't need her to start a following through the city streets.

"Go," he instructed, following close behind her as they walked out the door to Magnolia's biggest library.

* * *

It took a long while for Gajeel to steer the watchman towards the library. Seemingly every shop and every person distracted her and turned her off course to the point where he was about to haul her there over his shoulder.

Though, he had to admit that watching her take in so many new sights was entertaining. She practically radiated excitement as she bounced at his side, sometimes flitting away to a shop window to see its wares. Every now and then, she would grab his cloak to make him stop, pointing at things and asking him questions. She was insatiable with his answers and constantly badgered him for more information.

"Oi, this ain't a sight seein' trip. Y'have work to do, shrimp," he growled as he dragged her away from yet another vendor; this one selling wood carvings.

She puffed her cheeks at him and resumed walking. He shook his head, shaking off his growing irritation, and lead her deeper into the city, still some blocks away from Magnolia's library.

He looked at his side to check on her and found the girl to have disappeared.

He groaned internally and turned in the street, looking for her. He didn't deserve the amount of trouble she was causing.

She was not near any shops or vendors, and he wondered if perhaps she had wondered inside somewhere. He backtracked their route until a flash of blue and white caught his eye in a shaded alleyway. She was crouched over the ground with her hood down, speaking to someone much smaller than she. A child it looked like.

He stalked towards her and she ran to him with great urgency, pulling him by his shirt into the alley with her.

"Gajeel, he says he needs money."

The child appeared to be homeless. His hollow eyes and sagging skin were evidence of his condition.

"Most people do," he retorted, trying to pull her away.

"But he's sick," she pleaded. Her expression was pained and becoming desperate, "Can I borrow some money?"

The request did not roll off her tongue quite as well as she wanted, but he couldn't recall her ever asking him for anything before. Still, he did not waver.

"No."

He maneuvered her towards the street, keeping her ahead of him as they walked. She pushed his arm off of her and demanded his attention.

"Then how about a trade?" she asked.

At this point, Gajeel was tired of her distractions, "You have nothing I want."

She reached inside her shirt and retrieved a jagged, lavender stone attached to a long gold chain around her neck. He had never seen the trinket on her before and paused. With careful fingers, she took the necklace off and offered it to him.

"How much?" She asked.

He gave her a snarky grin, "What would I do with something like that?"

She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the exchange. Her hazel eyes were set with determination and he figured she would probably do anything to get her way right now. He delved into the pouch of coins tied at his belt and fished the more paltry currency out. If the stone was real, and he could see that it was, it would be worth more than what he had on him, never mind if the chain was pure gold. He didn't think the little girl owned anything so valuable for being sworn into a community known for giving away such baubles. But she insisted, and so he cheated her.

He took the stone and chain from her fingers, examining it up close for a moment before dropping it into his purse. He handed her the copper coins and she raced back to the alley, emptying her hands to the puzzled child. A few words were spoken between them and the boy embraced her before running off.

She gave him every single coin she had and didn't appear to be the least bit disappointed. He should have expected as much from a cloister member, but still. It was everything she had. She held such a kindness in her eyes that it made him uncomfortable to be near her. His conscience told him to give her necklace back as penance for cheating her, but he refused. It was not his fault she had no concept of money or value and he certainly wasn't just going to hand his entire purse over to her.

She pulled her hood back over her head like before and walked ahead of him like he had asked her to.

She was less energetic, as though she had received a burden that kept her on earth. She still looked at shops and people, but asked no questions.

They continued onward in silence: Levy, content with her decision of generosity, and Gajeel, disgusted by his greed.

* * *

Gajeel had given Levy the parchment his father had written his message on, passing it to her delicate fingers. He had left Lily in the stables at Sabertooth to give him ample time to rest. After their time here, they would need to leave quickly.

They entered what appeared to be a monolithic labyrinth, with cathedral-like spaces and white limestone. There were floors and floors and floors of books stretching upwards to the sky and as far as she could see to the horizon.

 _Were there walls?_ she thought to herself.

She felt Gajeel was now justified in his comment about her little archive den not being a true library. She meandered her way through shelves until she found a secluded area with an empty work station. She removed her cloak, smirking at the fact that her bodyguard had been correct regarding the chilly weather and was grateful for his foresight.

She examined the scrollwork of the little parchment slip. The characters were runes, very old ones. She recognized the last group of symbols as the one she had been struggling to decipher. She wondered if the library had the records she had been examining back home and leapt up to find the necessary materials. The giant man moved with her and she paused, confusingly looking over her shoulder at him.

"I'm going to get some texts," she explained and he nodded in acknowledgment.

Still not moving to sit, she continued, "I'll be right back. You can hold this."

She returned his parchment slip to him and scurried away.

He was unnerved by her wandering off alone, but resisted following. She would return. Right? He recalled the last time he sent her off by herself and her near-death experience. But this was a library, not a glacial river. Surely she could handle herself in such a place. Or not run off.

He cursed under his breath and jumped to his feet to follow her. He nearly collided with her tiny figure holding a stack of heavy books and documents. He took the burden from her and set them at the table.

She dusted her hands, "We're in luck! The section we need is just around the corner here," she gestured behind her.

She spread the texts before her in an order that suited her and set to work.

Gajeel felt a sense of pride as he watched his watchman. They had been there for hours and she had developed a knack for the translation, though it was only fifteen lines. He knew he had made the right decision in bringing her here.

He was patient for the first hour, but it seemed he had reached his daily quota for silent tolerance after the sixth hour.

"Oi. Ya done yet?" he complained.

She didn't look up from her book, but answered with a negatory head shake. He had long since abandoned his designated chair and paced around her, fiddling with nearby books and desperate for some kind of entertainment. At one point, she had suggested he read something, but he had grown bored with his choice. What he really wanted was food. He was amazed by the little woman's stamina for long stretches of silence and fasting, but he grew more concerned when she simply refused to eat.

"Quit yer readin'. I know yer hungry," he attempted to pull her book away from her, but she resisted and it suddenly turned into a contest of tug-o-war.

"Gajeel, I'm not hungry! Just go without me."

He relinquished her book with a menacing growl. That was what he was trying to avoid: leaving her there. He was being driven mad with the irritating scratches of pens against paper and the deadsilence that would come and go. How could she stand such conditions?

She had leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, straining to focus on him.

"If it makes you happy, bring something back, please."

She had requested he return under the assumption that she would still be there. He took her request another step farther for validity.

He braced his hands against the table and leaned towards her with a threatening glare.

"If you run, I will find you. I have been kind so far. Do not think I won't kill yer friends."

It was all he truly had over her, and she narrowed her eyes at him with restrained defiance.

Satisfied that she understood, he left to find food.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Gajeel returned to the library to find his watchman right where he left her. He had not been gone very long, but it appeared she had attracted the attention of a male admirer. In a library, of all places.

Hot fury shot through his veins when the miscreant made advances towards her: caressing her cheek, fondling a curl of cerulean hair. She had moved around the workstation in an attempt at distance while she worked and had firmly pushed his hand away from her, vocally requesting he desist. When he took hold of her hand and pinned her against the table, Gajeel moved.

He saw nothing but red and gripped her aggressor by the throat, lifting him off the floor.

His outcry was cut off and instead, he made quiet, guttural sounds of a strangled nature. He was vaguely aware of the little hand that pressed against his bicep.

"Gajeel, put him down."

He didn't listen at first. In fact, he squeezed harder to spite her plea; the man now turning a shade of blue. But her voice was like an arrow to his resolve. He released his hold, dropping the perpetrator to his knees and kicked the man over with a booted foot, watching him scramble to shaky feet and leave.

He turned to his watchman, about to scold her, until he saw the unmistakable look of relief on her face. There were tears welling in her eyes and his earlier wrath vanished entirely.

Had he frightened her? He was unskilled with tears. Only children and women cried, and he was neither. She scrubbed her face clean, removing the salty drops from her features and turned back. She crouched over the floor, sheathing the knife that he had not seen her draw. She shuffled a few documents that had been displaced; her hands lightly shaking. His little watchman would not go down without a fight.

He retrieved the page she had been scribbling on earlier, examining her writing.

"Is this what it says?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at what he was holding, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Sort of. The words are not in the right order. And I still have another three lines to do."

He nodded to himself, tucking the sheet into a nearby tome.

"Take only what books y'need. Keep them in yer bag. We're outta time."

As if on cue, a bell rang, signifying nightfall. Levy had never stolen anything before and wasn't sure she heard him correctly. Take the books? As he started walking out, her nerves coupled with the distant ringing made her jumpy. She took two dusty books and a stack of papers (including her final translation), along with a corked bottle of ink and dry quills. She crammed everything in her bag, rushing to catch up to her giant.

Pantherlily was waiting outside at the bottom of the stairs when they exited the doors, a downdraft greeting the little woman with a vile coldness. To her surprise, Gajeel grabbed her by the waist and tossed her into the saddle. She shivered against a brisk breeze and pulled her hood up, shielding herself. He gave her no time to adjust herself further as he mounted up behind her, forcing her into side-saddle when he spurred Lily into a gallop.

She had come to hate this position. It made her feel like she was going to slide off at any moment.

His voice sounded harsh in their silence.

"Yer stayin' with a friend. When ya finish, I'll be back."

His words confused her and she did her best to look him in the eye to ensure he spoke the truth. She feared he was going to visit her home again, and she couldn't allow that.

"Where are you going?"

"Crocus."

Crocus, the capitol, she thought. She recalled a detailed map from home and noted the capital was about forty miles East of Magnolia. They were headed towards the North gate.

"Why?" she asked.

"Not yer business, shrimp," he tacked on her nickname to soften his statement.

She was quiet, and that was good. He didn't want to explain himself.

Pantherlily raced out of the city gate, startling guards, but not provoking a pursuit. Apparently, tightening security included checking-in, but not out.

The twilight sun scattered brilliant colors all across the sky with bright pinks and oranges against the clouds. The landscape had changed from crowded forests to rolling hills and grass. Not a tree in sight. The previous rain turned the scenery into a lush paradise that made Levy itch to kick off her boots for. The trail broke into a fork and Gajeel took the less traveled path, slowing Lily to a trot. Brick-like rock formations began dotting the ground until they came upon a mass of ruins. They circled the crumbling remnants until she spotted a little home built into the side of the hill, hidden amongst the rubble. Smoke rising from a chimney and a warm light from within suggested occupancy.

"Oi! Rain woman!" he shouted.

Moments later a tall woman with hair as blue as Levy's and eyes as dead as fish opened the door.

Gajeel wrapped a muscular arm around her and slid her off the saddle, setting her feet on the ground with more tenderness than she expected. She found her footing and stepped back from the horse and rider.

"Keep an eye on her!" he called.

He stayed a moment too long after his instruction, seemingly wanting to say more. He turned his horse East and did not look at her again as he rode off.

"You gonna stand out here all night?"

Levy scrambled up the makeshift steps to the wooden door, passing in front of the woman to the inside of her home. She stood awkwardly in the space, not knowing what to do. It was a small home, fit for maybe two people. But what made her truly pause was the amount of water every flat surface held. Large glass vases, thin shallow dishes, and every inch in-between was some kind of clear vessel of water.

"Are you gonna stand there, too?" the woman had moved Levy to the side and walked inside, closing the door.

"I-I'm sorry. I was just..." Levy paused, trying to think of a better excuse for her gawking, "looking?" she finished lamely.

The woman was taller than Levy; beautiful and well-endowed. She wore a short, navy nightshirt that properly put her long legs on display while draping across wide hips to a defined waist. Her skin was clear and pale, but not unhealthily so. She was the epitome of beauty that Levy strived for, although she was certain no such goal would be obtained since she had stopped growing.

The blue-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, fully examining Levy to the point that it made her uncomfortable.

Then she spoke, "Juvia is my name. You can put your things by the table. Juvia thinks Gajeel won't be back for a while."

Her odd word phrasing caught Levy off guard and she did as she asked, placing her cloak and bag near what appeared to be a dining table, although it was much too small for more than one person.

Levy rubbed her cold hands together, wondering what to do with herself now. The woman had made herself comfortable on a little loveseat near a blazing fireplace. She picked up a mug, with what Levy assumed was tea, and resumed drinking it as she had been doing before the interruption.

She was amazed the hulking man had any friends at all, much less a domestic woman friend. If they even were friends. Perhaps they were more than that.

She tried to picture Gajeel sitting on the couch with his muscular arms stretched over the back, but he didn't seem compatible in the cozy, if not watery, setting. While she was repulsed by the thought, she didn't think it impossible. What if he had feelings for her?

"Do you stand around a lot?" the snide remark brought the records keeper back down to earth.

"How do you know Gajeel?" she asked quietly, walking around to face the woman.

She did not seem like the kind of person who would converse well with someone like him, but she couldn't restrain her curiosity. Levy felt comfortable with this woman, in a kindred sort of way. Perhaps it was because they shared similar traits. It was an inexplicable feeling, but she trusted it.

The woman made a gesture that Levy took as a motion to sit, so she knelt on the rug near the fireplace to thaw the cold developing in her hands.

"Juvia wants to know what you know about Gajeel first."

Levy thought hard for a moment, trying to recall any little detail she could about the man in question.

"Well, I know he's a raider. Though, I don't know what he's raiding for. I don't remember him or any of his men taking anything of value. Just burning things," she brought her hand to her mouth, drumming her fingers against her cheek in thought, "He has money, and a nice horse. He buys a lot of stuff too. And he's pushy."

At her last comment, the woman gave a knowing chuckle of humor, but covered her expression with her hand, waving for her to continue.

"Um...I don't know much else. He doesn't carry any weapons, I think."

Juvia nodded in agreement, pondering her response.

"Juvia has known Gajeel for a long time. He is Juvia's friend. That's all."

The declaration seemed absolute and held no romanticized attachment to it. But Levy was unsatisfied.

"He came to my village," Levy began, "He knocked on the doors and broke in to my convent. He asked if I could read something...," she jumped up from her spot on the rug and retrieved the copy she made of his parchment note from her bag. She returned and sat with the woman on her couch, handing the document to her.

Juvia did not even look up to know what the girl was talking about. She answered after a swallow from her drink, nodding, "Yes, Juvia has seen it."

Levy dropped the page to her lap, "What is it?" she asked.

Juvia shrugged her shoulders in response, "Juvia doesn't know. All Juvia knows is Gajeel has been looking for someone to help him figure it out for a long time."

"But you're his friend," she retorted in confusion.

"And you're his whore. That doesn't mean he tells Juvia everything."

Levy lurched at the distracting derogatory insult. She was no such thing and never would be.

"I am not," she muttered through restrained anger.

The woman cast her a condescending look of disbelief. Levy's fingers itched to slap her for calling her such a name, but resisted the temptation. She would not initiate violence, it was against her nature, even though her nature demanded an apology. She took a calming breath, still feeling the animosity tingle in her hands for strength.

"I really am not. I am a records keeper and a cloister member," she explained, hoping to prove something to this infuriating blue bimbo.

Juvia eyed the girl with a questioning look, "You're serious?"

She was asking more than just the validity of her position, but also the status of her experiences. Which she had none. Unless she counted their night in the cave as one, which she no longer thought plausible. So, she didn't count it.

Levy nodded her head gravely, and Juvia was taken aback, taking a final sip of her now lukewarm tea.

"Oh, well, Juvia thought he might have by now. Juvia is sorry," her voice held clear remorse and Levy was convinced it was sincere. She waved her apology off, no longer offended.

Their conversation filled with silence until Juvia noticed the fire dying down.

"It's late. Would you like to sleep now?" she asked.

Levy nodded tiredly. There was too much on her mind to let her complete anymore translation work.

Juvia unfolded herself from her position and dug into a nearby cupboard. She came across thick bedding, dragging the bedclothes across the hard floor, and dropped them on the rug near the fireplace.

"You can sleep here and Juvia will be over there," the tall blunette pointed to a hidden corner of the home, probably her own bed. Levy noticed she twisted her fingers into knots, apparently nervous about something.

"Juvia would really appreciate it if you wouldn't run away. Gajeel can be...temperamental."

Levy gave her an understanding smile, but truly felt no need to leave. Her family was safe and she was going to see this through to the end. As a cloister member and a decent human being, she would help him.

"I won't," she promised.

And with that, the blue haired pair prepared for bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**What's this? Two chapters in one update?!**

 **yes...**

 **=)**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter 12

Wind tore against Gajeel's clothes and skin, an unrelenting sting of eddies and dry air. He did not plan to stop on his way to Crocus, he had business to take care of and he was already late.

The sun had not yet come up when he reached the main gates of the city. He did not need to hide here for he was expected. Pantherlily continued his cruel bounding pace straight through the empty stone streets. The castle sat at the heart of the void city and Gajeel tightened the reins to slow them, coming to a brisk walk until every lock and bolt was removed to allow them entry to the main hall.

It was a cold and abysmal place, with nothing but hard rock to keep the sunlight from revealing the dark secrets within. He remained mounted as the guards escorted him to the Steward's throne room. A single, red carpet lined the length of the hall, and upon a glance behind him, now a soiled carpet.

The throne sat unoccupied, and Gajeel could hear the distinct echo of yelling and complaining from somewhere in the castle. A door swung shut with a loud bang as the reason for Gajeel's visit made himself present. He mounted the steps to the throne in a gaudy, purple night robe having been pulled away from sleep.

He was an ugly man with pointed features and thinning hair. In truth, Gajeel found him odious. The man had a neurotic presence as he twitched and fidgeted in the wooden seat at the top of the steps. It was a temporary placement for what he expected to be cast.

"The hell you want, Kurogane!?"

Gajeel said nothing, simply scowling at the agitated steward, waiting until said neurotic remembered what he had summoned Gajeel for.

He dismissed his guards with a wave of his hand, encouraging Gajeel to dismount, which he did.

"Why do you insist on riding that fleabag in here?"

Gajeel obliviously stroked his horse's broad neck. There was no need for the raider to answer to nonessential commentary. He wasn't there to waste time on conversation.

The man gave an irritated sigh.

"Your manners are a bit lacking, _your highness_ ," he sneered.

The mocking tone made Gajeel grit his teeth. He eyed the man cooly and spoke.

"Alkane Beach and Hargeon."

The purple man peaked in interest, "Gone?"

Gajeel nodded. His orders were to remove the lesser towns known to contain the more outspoken citizens and merge them with the bigger cities, like Magnolia. Higher populations meant a larger recruitment pool. With more recruits to his law enforcements, the citizens tended not to complain as much.

"Good," he bubbled, "And Fairy Tail?"

Gajeel fiddled with the bridle over Pantherlily's nose, knowing what was coming next.

"Not on the coast," he answered. Though he had not confirmed it yet, he knew it was his watchman's town. Although, he felt it to be too small to pose any sort of threat that the steward seemed to think it possessed.

The man grumbled to himself, becoming increasingly vocal with this misinformation. He paused and physically wriggled with his thoughts, planting his chin in his hand propped against the arm rest.

"Our agreement?"

Gajeel wished to leave as quickly possible. He had an eerie feeling that something bad was headed in his direction. The steward eyed him with cruel intent.

"Our agreement was Fairy Tail, Kurogane."

"They do not exist," he insisted.

"Your men seem to disagree," he countered. He stepped down off the platform and circled the prince, separating him from his horse.

"They say there was a third town. Care to elaborate?"

Of course he would interrogate his men.

"Inconsequential. They pose no threat."

The steward was thin compared to Gajeel and only a few inches shorter. But while a snake could be crushed under his boot, this snake could not. Gajeel turned to face the man now at his back.

"Your men tell me you kept a little souvenir. Another seashell for your collection, perhaps? You seem fond of the ones with blue hair."

Gajeel bristled at the mention of his watchman, clenching his hands into fists.

"Also of no consequence," he defended.

The purple robed man cackled, "Of course! A man of your stature would require a harem."

Gajeel suppressed the urge to move away as he crept closer and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Did she scream when you raped her?"

Gajeel hid his disgust well as the man crowed with laughter at the expense of himself. It was better he assume her role than to actually determine what it was he needed her for.

"She would have to be quite beautiful to tempt a brute like you. Where is she?"

The man wandered around his horse as if he could be hiding her.

"We're getting off the subject, José," he attempted a redirection.

"No," he came full circle and stood in front of the platform, "I'm not. Our agreement was Fairy Tail! And you still return here with reports as if the place never existed. _They're. Out. There_ ," he enunciated animatedly.

He mounted the steps tiredly, rubbing bloodshot eyes before flopping into the ornate seat.

"Bring your little harlot here. I will find out for myself what to make of that village."

Gajeel took that as his cue to leave. He pulled the hood to his cloak back over his head and led his horse back the way they came, down the long red carpet. He had only taken a few steps before the steward called out to him.

"Don't go far, Kurogane. You have one week."

Gajeel resumed his stride, now more determined to leave than he had ever been before. He had no intention to return.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello minions!**

 **So...I might be a little excited for chapter 14? Here's an early update, so I can update again tomorrow! =D**

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* * *

Chapter 13

Levy stared down at the parchment papers before her. She had been sitting at Juvia's little table for well over an hour and a crick had begun to develop in her neck.

Juvia had told her that Gajeel would be back tomorrow. He left to disband the mercenaries they had hired, which led to more questions, but Juvia continued her vague, almost-answers. It was maddening.

Levy had finished the translation, but was unsatisfied with the results: 

_Here I lie at your feat._

 _With crimson eyes look straight to see._

 _My tomb of stone encases thee,_

 _But exit I will when duty calls._

 _The hard crown comes with truth._

"Well, that doesn't rhyme at all," she grumbled.

It was a riddle. He wasn't going to like that. Yet another stress factor to add to her pile.

She sat back, rubbing her neck to ease the sore muscles. She got up from the table, twisting and popping her joints. She opened the door to the outside, needing to clear her head. Juvia had awakened as early as she. Maybe she could talk for a little bit.

It was mid-afternoon and warm outside. The air held a hint of moisture which made it feel colder than it really was. She walked along an overgrown footpath to the rear of the cottage. Juvia appeared to be elbow deep in what was a section of dead grass, jerking weeds up with growing hostility. Along the opposite side of her, built into a sketchy formation of rock, was a single stall stable with a mare the color of rich soil.

"Can I help?" Levy asked, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

Juvia sat back on her heels with a huff, taking a momentary break from her work.

"Juvia thinks it's useless. Juvia will have to replant everything."

Levy stepped closer to see wooden barriers framing a large plot. All was overgrown with grass and weeds, but certain dead plants stuck out with equal distance to each other.

"A garden," she deduced.

"The frost killed it while we were gone. Juvia thought it would be okay to plant early, just in case," the blunette shook her head, swinging the tail of hair at the back of her head, and laughed at herself, "Juvia was wrong."

She stood, dusting her hands and clothes. She wore pants similar to Levy, but with a fitted black top that had no sleeves and left an open diamond shape on her back. Levy was right to think the woman beautiful.

"Just another reason to go to town. C'mon," she motioned for Levy to follow.

* * *

Levy stood at a vendor sorting through supposedly fresh produce for a decent selection that was not pocked with rotten markings.

She wished she had brought her cloak, if only to hide herself. If she thought the stares she received at Sabertooth bothered her, well she was mistaken.

Juvia had managed to get them in the city with much more finesse than Levy had expected. Being such a beautiful woman, she was not surprised the young guard at the gate was enraptured by her charm. Levy would never be able to pull something like smooching the poor kid to death just so they could shop. What a crazy world they lived in.

Levy perused the multiple produce stands, avoiding the melons at all costs (as they weren't in season and likely to be expensive). She tried to stick to the greener, cheaper vegetables that Juvia told her to get: squash, zucchini, and onions.

Juvia had wandered away somewhere and left Levy with a few coins in hand. She had no idea how much she held or if it would cover her selection so she tried to stall as long as possible, feigning great interest in the merchant's selection of berries. Then, someone running past bumped into her shoulder, causing her to stumble.

"Hey!" She yelled.

He was fast, but the white checkered covering over his head had fallen in his haste, revealing a head of pink spiked hair.

"Natsu?" she whispered at first, and when she was certain it was him, she cried out, "Natsu, wait!"

She chased after her friend, accidentally toppling a basket of apples. She made it as far as the center of the street before she was tackled from behind. Meaty hands pawed at her clothes and she shrieked when someone pulled her hair, shaking her. She could feel her shirt give an audible rip.

"You little shit," he grunted hatefully.

The merchant had caught her, only she hadn't meant to steal anything.

"Stop! I-I didn't mean to take it!"

She desperately tried to push him away, catching his skin under her nails and sprinkling coins onto the cobblestones. The metallic clinking sound caused the merchant to shove her to the ground, quickly collecting the currency before someone else beat him to it.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes, rolling onto her knees. The food in her bag had been crushed, but hopefully not beyond edibility.

The man spat at her and went back to counting coins and tending his shop.

Levy was more angry than anything, but she tried to remind herself that he was just looking out for his business. She gingerly rubbed a sore spot on her cheek, brushing off the grime she had collected from her fall.

She stood and took the same path as Natsu through the curving street. Hope propelled her forward. She didn't have to go very far to arrive at the North Gates. There were many streets that converged at this point, which meant he could have gone anywhere. She was confused as to why Natsu would be in Magnolia in the first place. No one ever left Fairy Tail. Well, except for Jet, but he was Master's messenger to Yajima. It didn't make sense for him to be there. Unless Master needed to get a message to him.

Levy paused to think about the implications of getting a message to the other cloister leaders. It meant they were all safe, but it also meant Jet was still injured. She wrestled with the idea of visiting Magnolia's cloister. She didn't have her robes on, so they wouldn't exactly recognize her, but they also wouldn't believe her if Natsu had already been there.

Her thoughts were a downward spiral to the point where Levy considered it a bad idea. Besides, she needed to find—

"Levy!"

Juvia? Levy whirled in the direction of her name, seeing Juvia hold up two pairs of reins walking towards her from the street Levy had just left.

"Guess what Juvia found!" she bubbled excitedly.

Levy could clearly see what it was Juvia had found as she was face-to-face with an unfamiliar blue roan mare standing next to Juvia's own earth-tone mare.

"Well?" Juvia pushed the reins into Levy's hands, her enthusiasm losing steam.

Levy struggled for words to express how she felt.

"Juvia, she's beautiful, but...," the tall blunette eyed her with confusion, "But I can't take care of her. I don't know anything about horses! And you should not have spent your money on me. Really."

Levy was excited about the prospect of not having to share a horse with someone else, but she was a little more concerned for the cost and the animal's well-being. Levy was a bookkeeper, not a stable-hand. Sure, her cloister had horses, but it was a faraway world that Levy preferred to maintain. Her place was among books.

Juvia rolled her eyes at Levy's obstinacy.

"Then think of it as payback. If you take her, then she won't have to deal with her master."

"Who's her master?" she questioned, petting the mare's soft nose. She had no tack other than the bridle, but Levy didn't mind that. The saddle she rode in on with Gajeel had rubbed her raw in the worst of ways. Not to mention she would never be able to lift the heavy leather to the animal's back. Their height difference was just too great.

"Remember the owner of that vegetable stand you were at?"

Realization reared itself as her words clicked together, ignoring the fact Juvia had been watching.

"You. _Stole_. Her?!" she practically screamed. Juvia shot her a silencing glare.

"You can't steal a horse!" she continued, much more quietly.

Juvia ignored her and moved to mount her horse until Levy took hold of her shirt.

"Juvia, please! Return her!" she begged. It was wrong. Even if he deserved it, she would not keep a stolen horse.

Juvia angrily slapped Levy's hand away, "Juvia will not. Some people don't deserve luxury. The horse is coming whether you ride her or not."

Levy sighed tiredly, "That is not your decision to make."

She knew she came off as ungrateful. It was not her intent, the horse was gentle and beautiful, and Levy felt instantly comfortable with her. But was she going to forfeit every thing she has learned from her cloister just to get by? At what point would her morals and standards become firm?

Levy led the horse to the Gate, leaving the city with Juvia riding behind her. She would thank Juvia later. For now, she was upset, hungry, and fearful to give Gajeel her translation.


	14. Chapter 14

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 **Peach**

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* * *

Chapter 14

It had been a long ride back to Magnolia. Gajeel had waited until Crocus was out of sight before he slowed Lily to a walk. His horse was tired and on the cusp of injury. They had traveled all day yesterday, and again all day today, stopping only for water. Gajeel mumbled his apologies to his friend, promising rest when they reached the Kardia Ruins. Juvia would be able to shelter them for a night.

Levy was all he thought about the entire trip. There was no way he could deliver her to the tortuous fate that surely awaited her in the capital. While he would not have cared if it was one of his men, she had helped him, specifically. She had been kind and tolerant. It was only a matter of time before he split from Fiore's steward, though he would have preferred it happen later rather than sooner. It couldn't be helped. He had to get out.

He nearly shouted with joy when they came over the crest of the hill and saw the wreckage of the cathedral sprawled in the valleys and slopes beneath them. He kicked Pantherlily into a gallop for the final stretch and jumped down from the moving horse when they approached the hidden hovel. Juvia called to him from a distance away, carrying a pail of sloshing water. She waved to him, but since he didn't see his watchman with her, he waited for her to approach him.

Juvia changed course, instead taking a footpath to her little stable disguised in the back, where he decided to follow her.

"Juvia sees you made it out in one piece."

She meant her comment in jest, but it was a very real threat, hence the reason he went alone.

"Where is she?" he questioned, looking around for his watchman's signature blue hair.

Juvia had entered the minuscule shack, setting her bucket on the ground and retrieving a soft brush with which to bathe her horse. The water ran off the animal's sleek hair in streaks of grime and sweat. His own horse was probably worse and in dire need of care.

"In the field. Juvia was teaching her to ride."

Gajeel looked to where the woman gestured, noticing that Pantherlily had disappeared. He took to the hill in her direction, tiredly stomping up the incline. When he reached the top, the field below stretched into the formation of a bowl, and circling the center was his watchman.

He looked on with curiosity at first. She had obtained a new horse in his absence. A mare, by the looks of it. Levy sat proudly astride the animal's back, cuing signals with booted feet. She shone brightly as the beast obeyed her, but what struck him odd was the lack of leather. There was none to be exact. She used no saddle, no bridle, and no reins to guide the animal, yet she weaved recognizable figure 8's and circles in the tall grass.

Patherlily approached their arena, curious about his master's newest addition. His horse stuck out in the tall grass, a hulking black giant. He watched on as the little girl greeted him, stroking his ears from atop her new height. The wind carried her soft hellos in his direction, her voice sweet in its sincerity.

Grass swished underfoot as Juvia approached him from behind.

"Forgetting something?"

Her hand entered his peripheral and he took the yellowed parchment from her, reading over the elegant calligraphy.

"What is this?" he questioned in confusion, his expression darkening.

"She finished," she answered brightly, "She was up all night with it, actually. Juvia thinks you should go thank her...maybe?" her last words were caught in a breeze as she walked back to her stable.

He read the lines once more. The characters not fully registering. He turned the page over, looking for more words to clarify the prose. There was only the short verse.

He paced a few steps towards the house, then stopped. He was tired, so maybe he wasn't reading it clearly. The sun was still up and he tilted the page to catch the light. To his disappointment, the lines did not change.

The words were suggestive, hinting. The amount of writing on the paper he had given her suggested a lengthy letter, if not a strong paragraph.

 _With crimson eyes look straight to see._

He looked up at the sound of laughter. Pantherlily was teasing her, nipping at her legs and goading the roan into a chase.

She had tricked him, lied to him, toyed with him. And she had stuck around to watch her handiwork play out.

He crumpled the document in his fist, stalking down the hill to confront her. He would do more than just that.

Levy paused her practice when she saw Gajeel coming down the hillside. A slight smile alighted her lips until she noticed the murderous expression he wore. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach as fear ripped through her. She slid off the roan horse, walking around the still animal to meet him.

Every line in his face told her he read it, and as she predicted, it wasn't what he wanted to see.

"Gajeel, I—"

"What is this," he interrupted, holding the ruined parchment up for her to see.

She eyed him warily, choosing her words carefully, "It is your translated message."

He snorted, "It's short."

She didn't answer right away. She felt her words would spark his growing irritation, but it seemed her lack of response only angered him further.

"Sometimes, there are words in old verse that are meaningless. They do not cross over into our modern language because we already incorporate them into other words. So it comes out...much shorter."

She heard a thunderous rumble reverberate in his chest, his eyes taking on a dark shade.

"This is a riddle," he stated quietly.

She couldn't help but nod. It was the truth.

He charged her, his outstretched hands taking hold of her linen shirt as he lifted her off the ground to his eye level.

"Do you think this is a game?" he growled menacingly, jostling her, "I saved you. You—"

His sentence was cut short. Sheer surprise had immobilized him; blind-sided him in a way that he would never fully recover from. His red vision had clouded in swirls of angelic, cobalt colored hair. But what had derailed him was the pair of soft pink lips that successfully interrupted his accusations by pressing them to his own in an attempt at a kiss.

She was trembling. He could feel her practically vibrate. She was afraid and tense.

But she had spunk, he would give her that. With his mind now wiped clean of anger, he recovered from his shock only to dive into the opposite spectrum of emotion she had drawn out of him.

He kissed her back and her lips softened with surprise, moving against him in an unfamiliar and strange way. Her mouth parted in astonishment that her improvisation had worked, but he took it as an invitation to deepen their kiss. When she felt his tongue expertly slide along hers, she gasped and jerked back, shoving him away.

She pushed rather forcefully, and he let her pull away, quickly dropping her. She staggered a step back, bracing herself against the shoulder of her mare, who had managed to not move an inch. Her pale cheeks blossomed with embarrassment, and he finally remembered himself, straightening his shoulders.

She brought her hand to her mouth, gingerly touching her lips and pointing a shaky finger at him with her other hand.

"You kissed me," she uttered, her eyes wide with comprehension.

He quirked a single brow at her, "I believe it was you that kissed me."

She stood gaping and panting. She was physically struggling to find words to fill the silence, but Gajeel had a different plan. He bent over and picked up the wadded translation. He unfurled it, trying to smooth the wrinkles out with his large fingers.

She saw pain flash in his eyes as he reread the words on the page, inspiring her to speak.

"Who gave you that message?" she asked.

He looked away from her, from the page. She sensed a wall had come up, cutting her off from him.

"Doesn't matter," he answered.

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, walking back to the little cottage, and folded the crinkled document into his belt. He was still wearing the same clothes from two days ago, she realized.

"I can help," she spoke, softer than she wanted to sound, but he still heard her.

"No. Go home!"

He was angry, but not at her. She suspected he feared he would not be able to achieve closure from the note and whatever it's message meant to him.

"Gajeel?" she called.

He stopped mid-stride and looked at her. She had grown used to the intensity of his blood red eyes, but his expression held such a deep despair and darkness that she did not realize she had moved towards him until she placed her hand against his studded forearm, an attempt at comfort.

"I can help. I don't know what it means, but I can still help you," she pleaded.

She would stay with him of her own accord. She did not think she would be able to forgive herself if she were to leave and not give it her best try.

She pulled her hand away, fisting it against her nauseous stomach.

He deliberated, searching his thoughts before aiming his eyes at her.

He grunted his approval, completely missing her lovely smile as he trudged back up the hill.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello Minions!**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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* * *

Chapter 15

Early morning fog crept along the ground and clung to the sloping hills of the Kardia Cathedral Ruins.

Gajeel reached the edge of the forest where he dismounted from Pantherlily. He retrieved his gauntlets and knotted them with tight success, testing the blade reactions before sheathing them again. He unbelted the heavy saddle and slid it off the animal's back, dumping it to the ground. The mist hid it well enough, so it wouldn't be found.

He moved to Pantherlily's head and unbuckled the bridle, slipping the bit out of his mouth. He gave the dark horse a distracted petting as he shook off the missing weight.

He left while Levy and Juvia were asleep. They had become comfortable enough with each other to share a bed, which made sleeping arrangements easier for Gajeel. He suspected it was Levy who had slept on the ground before him because no matter where he turned to in the bedding near the fireplace, all he could smell was her: sunshine, new grass, and lavender.

He couldn't distract himself long enough to banish her from his thoughts, so he had risen early to hunt. It wasn't that they needed the food, but the solitude might be what he needed to drive the lingering sensations of her kiss out of his mind.

He could still feel her: her surprise and her caution. He did not know how hard his subconscious was fighting to keep himself from wanting her until she had delivered the fatal blow to his defenses with a single kiss. A kiss that felt as soft as flower petals.

His heart pounded furiously in his chest just thinking about her. He let himself reminisce, but no further.

The gods must be laughing at his misery. She was untouchable, a cloister member, and a flower for all intents and purposes. To put someone so beautiful and pure within his sights, only to keep her out of reach was the worst sort of cosmic joke he had ever heard. The fact that it was she who kissed him first only made things worse. Like she was gloating over that fact.

"Oi," he addressed his horse firmly, "yer bait. Act like it."

The horse bobbed his head in a nod and pretended to limp as he walked into the thick of trees. Gajeel shook his head snickering.

 _Damn horse was a good actor._

He waited for a number of counts before climbing a nearby tree and following the horse's path below him.

It wasn't too difficult, having to move in the branches. Spring time made the trees swell with water, giving them added strength to hold his weight, not to mention the leaves provided the camouflage he needed to avoid being seen. Lily was a few meters ahead of him and had already attracted a pair of tracks in the soil.

The time of day was right for the hunt and judging by the size of the print, he would guess a wolf, which was quite lucky.

He leapt to a nearby trunk, landing on silent feet. His horse had laid in the ground beneath the upended roots of a tree for a dramatic rest. He was smart and knew he had been followed.

Though Gajeel could see the tracks, he couldn't see the beast that made them. And that made him worry. He was about to come down out of the tree until a strange noise had him crouching to hide.

"Nyx! Eos! Come out!"

A small girl-child with hair as dark as midnight water emerged from her hiding place in the fallen tree where Pantherlily lay. A pair of Northlandic wolves heeded her call and revealed themselves to her. Gajeel watched with growing horror as he recognized the beasts from the day before. So they really were being followed.

The girl approached his horse and proceeded to affectionately pat him, possibly looking him over for any injuries. He cursed himself.

 _Y'ain't gonna find any, brat._ He thought.

He wracked his brain for a solution other than calling for his horse. He would get caught and they would both end up wolf chow.

Gajeel held perfectly still as the scene below him unfolded. He was high up enough to keep his scent off the ground, but there was something about the girl that Gajeel found familiar.

A strong whistle from a great distance away drew the girl's attention to the south. She straddled the larger female wolf, Gajeel only now noticing the harness over the animals' shoulders, and left in a great hurry.

Gajeel would not return with food this morning for the child took off in the same direction as Juvia's home.

He couldn't tell if the paranoia over leaving José's circle was getting to him, but he wasn't going to take any chances. If they were from the Phantom, they would surely take Levy and kill her if nothing worse came to mind.

Gajeel was certain Juvia could handle herself, but Levy was not her responsibility. Gajeel dropped onto the ground, some few meters down, and mounted his horse who had sensed the situation and ceased the play-acting.

They rode until their first stop to collect the discarded tack, then barreled through the hills at high-speed. His jaw clenched, determined to get to Levy first.

The sun peeked over the horizon and spilled orange-red rays of light into the valley. He didn't think he had traveled so far away, but time seemed to move at a crawling pace.

When the cottage came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief. Levy was stringing laundry up on a line and Juvia appeared to be in the stable.

He had a terrible view of the valley from his vantage point, which meant he couldn't see the wolf-child or others incoming. He wasn't left with much choice. They would have to leave.

* * *

Levy hooked a heavy basket of wet sheets over her hip, moving down the line to toss the next bedding corner over the wire to dry.

Juvia had been up far earlier than Levy and had completed washing the bedclothes Gajeel had stayed in. Being so close to the hearth, ash and dust tended to accumulate rather quickly. But Levy was eager to help earn her keep, so she took over for Juvia.

Levy was quite happy to have found a friend in her. She was bright and witty, especially when you moved past the sarcasm, dour expressions, and solemn attitude. There was a lot to like about Juvia.

Then, of course, there was Gajeel. She didn't know what to make of him. A 'friend' didn't seem right, and a 'best friend' seemed far too close. He was an acquaintance who saved her life and kissed her.

Well, that last bit was only true in part because she started it.

Her first kiss.

She huffed, angrily straightening a thick blanket along the wire.

She didn't know what to think. In hindsight, the ultimate purpose had been to distract him; it had worked. But every time her mind wandered, it managed to drift to him.

Her fingers flashed to her lips in remembrance of their fleeting moment of contact.

He had kissed before; there was no uncertainty in his posture.

 _What was that trick he did with his tongue?_

Her teeth unconsciously bit into her lower lip as she thought about the heat he stirred within her, currently turning her legs into jelly.

She wanted to kiss him again, to feel the fire he had ignited in her blood. She had never felt such a rush in her entire life.

She chastised herself for cutting their moment short.

Levy tried to straighten one edge of a stubbornly wrinkled sheet with a hard yank. Her height was making the chore difficult, so she set the basket down in the grass, standing on her toes and reaching up with both hands.

Strong fingers jerked the sheet aside, revealing the same intimidating man with whom her thoughts were obsessed.

She lurched back in surprise. Had her thoughts somehow summoned him to her?

"Get yer gear," he commanded.

He dropped the covering and she heard his heavy boots swish in the dry grass as he walked towards the stables.

Slightly put-off, she abandoned her chore to catch up to him, "Why?"

When he did not answer, she extended her question, "Are we going somewhere?"

He caught Juvia by her arm, muttering something under his breath and out of earshot.

Juvia's eyes flickered to the girl suspiciously, listening to whatever it was Gajeel whispered. Levy, refusing to be left out of what appeared to be a serious situation, interrupted him.

"Did something happen...?"

Her query died on her lips when she circled the pair and saw Gajeel's expression of urgency.

"Juvia will stay and give you a head start."

Gajeel did not object to her decision as she moved out of Levy's line of sight.

"What're y'doing?! I said to get yer gear!"

His bark startled her, and she visibly bristled from his shout. Things were different now and she wasn't going to put up with his bossy nature any longer.

"You haven't told me why," she argued, meeting his glare with one of her own.

"Don't need to, shrimp. Let's go."

He pushed his way into the little shack, taking a set of blankets from a rack and saddling her blue roan mare. She didn't even see where he pulled the tack from.

"Not Juvia's saddle!"

The protest came from behind Levy. Had she been so preoccupied with watching him that she wasn't even aware when Juvia left?

He groaned, growing irritated with the lack of cooperation from the women.

The mare was unsettled by the situation and nickered, pawing at the kneaded soil.

"Then I owe you one," he grumbled.

Juvia tossed Levy's red bag to his waiting hand. He caught it and fastened it to the horn of the mare's saddle.

"You owe Juvia _two_ saddles, Kurogane!"

Gajeel was careful to control his expression and gave Juvia a pointed look when Levy wasn't looking.

If Juvia realized her slip, she didn't show it, and Levy didn't catch it.

"Oi."

His voice made her turn and with the movement, he lifted her by her hips, folding her over his shoulder.

Juvia rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her cocked hip. Gajeel whistled for Pantherlily.

For all of her shouting and wiggling, it was a short-lived trip. He tossed her atop her blue mare, moving her legs to force her to sit properly; Juvia slipped the bridle over the horse's ears. He paid her huffing no mind as he fit each little boot into the stirrup.

She was definitely short, but at least she could ride now. His brows lowered against the surprising rush of disappointment he felt that they would not be riding together anymore.

Her added height gave rise to the fact that he now had a perfect view of her little pert derrière. He envied the leather seat, jealous of its harmless cradle.

Lily made his entrance and Gajeel swung himself up into the seat, gesturing for Juvia to hand him the saddlebags.

"You'll be fine on yer own?" he asked the blue-haired water hoarder.

He thought of her as a little strange, but who was he, a marauder, to judge?

"Juvia will be fine. Juvia will have Lyon with her," she did not address him directly, but instead retrieved her _Bardiche_ from over the door frame, her beloved 'Lyon'. Levy paled at the sight of the heavy weaponry.

Gajeel chuckled darkly, watching her pet the staff lovingly.

"I'm guessing something bad is coming, then?" the short blunette swallowed tightly.

He contemplated the consequences of letting her in on their situation.

"We're being followed," he pointed towards the direction of the forest, but his voice suggested that was as much as he would reveal to her. It was best to keep her in the dark for now.

She nodded in understanding, maneuvering her mare ahead of him.

"Are we going?"

She shot him a teasing look that suggested a race in the making. He smirked, liking the challenge.

He kicked Pantherlily into a steady gallop, gripping the reins between his steel clad fingers. He could hear the blunette's mare not far behind him. When he noticed her hoofbeats increase in pace, he knew he would be overtaken. She strode past with exhilaration brightening her features, her hair bouncing behind her.

 _Quick learner_ , he thought as he admired the way her legs clenched the animal under her.

Soon, they were barreling down the hills at breakneck speeds that only fools in love would dare to push for.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Gajeel and Levy traveled through the morning mists until the moisture evaporated under the heated sunshine. Not a single cloud was to be seen, leaving an open blue sky that Gajeel found himself frequently comparing to Levy's blue curls. The latter of which was much preferred.

They roamed the hills in an easterly direction until they happened across a shallow stream.

Levy leaned back along the length of her mare, balancing as she stretched her legs and arms while the horse drank. She didn't bother to dismount as it was a lot of trouble just to get back on, and she wouldn't ask for _his_ help.

"Where are we going?"

Her voice broke the comfortable silence between them. He looked at her as the sunlight filtered through the new leaves of the trees surrounding them, casting an ethereal air around her.

Her bound hair splayed across the hide of the animal under her in an attractive, yet unruly fashion. While the dew on the grass enhanced the color of the greenery, so too did the dew on her rosy cheeks. She blinked up at the sky with such bright hazel eyes, he couldn't tell if the light came from her or from the sun. She was beautiful.

"North," he answered, swallowing the hard lump that formed in his throat.

He rested his hands against the pommel of the saddle, realizing he still wore his steel gauntlets. He shucked them, stuffing them back into his saddle pack. He rethread the reins between the fingers of his right hand, a habit to stay ready.

"How far North?" she asked.

When Pantherlily's thirst was quenched, Gajeel lead them into the stream to walk in the water for a distance.

Behind him, her horse splashed underfoot to keep up with him. She eventually caught up until they walked side by side.

Her body rocked with the motions of the animal, her hips mesmerizing. She wore the same linen shirt that hung off her shoulders, the rolled sleeves dangling at her wrists. His eyes trailed hungrily across the exposed skin until he paused at the base of her naked throat.

He recalled the necklace and charm she had given him in exchange for the scant amount of coin. It was the only thing she had, as far as possessions, and guilt swelled in his chest. He wondered for a moment of its origin and if she came from a wealthy family. If so, she didn't act very privileged, but that could be attributed to growing up in the cloister.

"Hello?"

He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt her fingers curl around his arm.

"What?" he barked.

"You didn't answer me. And you were staring," she pulled her hand back, her expression registering hurt.

"What'd y'ask?" he put more gently.

"How far North are we going?"

He chewed on his words a moment too long before finally answering, "Until they lose our trail. The water'll cover our tracks fer now."

 _And lose our scent_ , he added in his mind.

He knew of a woman who lived in the foothills of the mountains. She would be quite old by now, possibly dead, but they could use her home as refuge for awhile.

"You say 'Until _they_ lose our trail.' How many people are following us?"

He could tell she had grown bored with their silence. She lodged the reins under her saddle to keep from dropping them as she proceeded to comb her finger through her horse's mane. The activity appearing difficult due to the horse's bobbing head.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

The awkward silence grew between them as he watched her braid the long strands of horse hair together. At least, up until a point where she couldn't reach . An interesting, yet safe, thought popped into his head.

"What's her name?"

She looked at him, surprised he had initiated a new conversation.

"Um...well, I really like Aurai, but she—?"

She paused mid-sentence when she heard snickering.

"What?" she glared, not sure if she should be offended.

"What kinda name is that?! Ore-eye."

Offended, she lashed out at him, "Well, what kind of a name is Pantherlily?!"

He choked on his mirth and coughed before he reseated himself.

"If you ask me, it's a name better suited for a cat. At least Aurai means something," she straightened, feeling victorious in her defense.

The horse in black snorted, clearly insulted.

"She doesn't mean it, Lil'," he patted his friend's neck, attempting to soothe his ruffled temperament.

Levy rolled her eyes at their show.

"What're yer other options?"

She cut her eyes at him, judging his sincerity.

"Terra, Aura, Gaia, Maia, Theia...," she trailed off with a lengthy list of names that had Gajeel's mind reeling, "Freya, Kore, Sita—"

"Whoa! Hang on, shorty. What're those?"

Perplexed, she looked at him, "Those were the other names I picked out."

"They don't sound Fiorian," he estimated.

"That's because they're Greek. Well, some are. Freya is Nordic. Sita is Hindu."

"Greek? Never heard of it," he deadpanned.

Levy felt her cheeks pool with color, suddenly embarrassed by her choice in name.

"I–I read a lot. And I liked them. That's all."

She couldn't seem to recover from the fact that he disapproved of her choice. She had spent a long time trying to come up with it. Never having owned a horse before, she felt her name had to be special. Of course, her past owner probably gave her a name, but she wasn't exactly inclined to seek him out.

She really liked Aurai. It was short, but held a regality that Levy felt suited the animal. She was a proud horse. She didn't think Gajeel's opinion actually mattered in the decision, but she felt silly now, repulsed even by the sound of it.

Gajeel could see the turmoil that plagued her features. Her eyes were downcast and her shoulders slumped. All she needed was her lower lip to be pushed a little farther out to complete her look as a pouting child. Was it something he said?

Her mouth twitched, lips coming together in a hard line, possibly resisting the urge to pucker like he suspected.

His fingers tingled with the desire to touch her face and smooth the worrying lines; a desire he battled to stay in the dark.

"Oi," his bark startled her, "what does _Aurai_ mean?"

His molten red eyes shifted in her direction, causing Levy's heart to resuscitate.

"A nymph of the breeze," she defined, doing her best not to look at him for too long.

He snorted, "Still stupid."

Another arrow to her heart, but she wasn't going to take this insult lying down. Her cheeks puffed, unable to restrain the words that tumbled from her mouth.

"You know what? You're an ass! A complete neanderthal that has no respect for other people and their opinions or decisions."

"So I'm a neanderthal?" he smirked, goading her.

Her anger made her strong and his cool expression made the venom in her voice palpable, "I _volunteered_ to come with you, to _help_ you. I can rescind that offer at any time. Face it, you need me."

She huffed indignantly and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at her. So much anger from someone so small; it was comical. Like a little bluebird ruffling her feathers for a fight.

Confusion riddled Levy's mental image of the studded giant, astride not three feet from her. He was strong, relatively quiet, and not at all what she imagined she would like in a man. But he had intentionally hurt her and she couldn't bring herself to forgive his insensitivity.

She thought she liked him. She thought he liked her. Which was why he kissed her, right? People don't randomly kiss strangers unless they liked each other.

She shook her head, dismissing her last thought. They were technically strangers and she had kissed him, already proving herself wrong.

She recalled her conversation with Juvia some nights ago regarding the dark man. She knew him, sure, but she knew nothing personal about him. No family, no likes or dislikes. He had kissed her back, but that could have been out of lust. Who was to say he even liked her? A scrawny little bookworm like herself did not fit in with the lifestyle of a raider. They would never work.

But knowing more about him would help her solve the riddle. The quicker she did so, the faster she could go back home. To her boring, domestic life and tiny library.

Levy's stomach growled in that moment, making her muffle the noises with her hand.

Gajeel's mouth curved into a wicked grin; he had heard the rumbling noise. He dug into the saddle bag with his plated armor, retrieving a large apple. He bit into the red peel with a loud crunch, thoroughly chewing the sweet morsel before swallowing.

 _Look at my apple! It's very good, too bad you don't have your own. I would share, but you called me a caveman._

She stared at his meal, practically drooling as the juicy fruit was ravaged by pointed teeth. She could ask for her own, or even a bite, but that would suggest she needed him and not the other way around, as she previously stated.

Her stomach protested against her dilemma. What was more important? Nourishment or pride?

She searched the foliage around them, hoping another option would come along soon.

Another crunch drew her attention to the half finished delicacy. His sly, ruby eyes cut at her. He tossed the half-eaten orb in the air and to his other hand, eyeing her with thoughtfulness.

He was taunting her and her pride gained the upper hand.

Up ahead, she made out a somewhat clear path in the trees and she steered her mare towards the opening. The new direction lead her out of the water, hooves clicking against smooth river stones on the bank.

"Shrimp," he called around a mouthful of crunchy apple, stopping Pantherlily.

She disappeared behind a mound of bracken as she followed the rabbit path deeper into the trees. He grumbled to himself.

"Oi!" he yelled.

No answer.

They didn't have time for this. He scanned the river behind him and the trees to his right. There was no sign of anyone following, but that didn't mean danger wasn't nearby.

He tried once more, raising his volume, "Levy!"

A stray breeze rustled the treetops, but beyond the trickle of water and occasional disturbance in the grass, there was nothing.

Nothing, save for the short, shrill scream of a blunette. He rolled his eyes and Pantherlily trotted in her direction, not needing his command.

The farther inward they traveled, the clearer her voice became. He could see the berry bushes dotted with bright red and orange fruit of the spicy sort. He turned the corner to reveal the blue haired watchman with her right foot caught in an animal trap; her hands pulling at the jaws to release herself.

She looked up at him first with hope and then with distaste. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"Where's your horse?" he mused, searching the area around them.

"She has a name," she spoke through gritted teeth, focusing her efforts on freedom.

He cursed under his breath, "Where's _Aurai_?"

"I s-scared her," she struggled, jerking her chin in her the correct direction.

She was hunched over the contraption, fighting with the rusty spring-loaded bars and judging by how much wiggle room she actually gained through her efforts, she was losing the battle.

It was a small trap, most likely for fox or deer. The metal was quite old and corroded, which meant whomever left it had forgotten about it. The build-up of corrosion also made it impossible for her to remove alone. Still, she tried.

He hopped down, mumbling for Lily to fetch her horse, and knelt in front of her.

He examined it first. No barbs, which was quite lucky, as she might get out of it with only bruising. He placed the heels of his hands on either rung, grunting as he forced the metal apart. The second he opened enough space, she was free, and he released the metal jaws, snapping them shut with a loud clamp. She moved quickly, scooting out of reach of its painful grasp.

He left the trap be and turned his attention to his female companion. She held her leg aloft, bent at the knee, unwilling to let it touch the ground.

He groaned internally. He hoped she didn't break something. She weighed so little, she must have the bones of a little bird.

He approached her side, reaching for her leg which she intentionally moved away. Leaves and dirt crackled under her as she protected the injured ankle.

"Don't touch it!" she yelled, panic coloring her tone.

"I ain't gonna touch, I just wanna look," he insisted.

He took hold of her boot heel, tugging the hard leather and slipping it off in an arc to keep her foot from flexing.

She hissed when he rolled the leg of her pants up, revealing the deep purple and blue of developing bruises encircling the thin joint. He tsk'd when he turned her leg to a new angle.

"Gonna have to cut it off," he remarked with nonchalance.

She punched his shoulder with her fist, eliciting a teasing grin from him.

"Not funny," she huffed.

"I don't think it's broken. Just bruised," he wiggled her toes individually and Levy had to bite her lip hard to hold back a fit of slap-happy giggles. She almost missed the way he probed the bones across the top of her foot. He was so tender, it surprised her. He was checking for other breaks, but luckily the leather protected her from the full extent of the damage.

He pressed his palm into the sole, applying pressure to flex.

She gasped and jerked away, shocking pain shooting up her limb.

Gajeel hummed with disapproval, "Either I'm wrong, or yer a baby."

She didn't know there were tears in her eyes until the droplets fell to her knees, leaving behind dark water marks.

Her leg hurt, it was true, but her tears stemmed from a deep rift in her heart that was repeatedly cracked wide open every time he seemed to open his mouth.

Pantherlily chose that time to pad through the semi-clearing with a less-than-happy roan mare at his side.

Gajeel's hand snapped forward, clearing away the tear stains left on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes whipped to his to catch a glimpse of the motive that would cause such an act of kindness. When his crimson orbs met her face, she noticed a softness around his eyes. She could clearly see the remorse that could not be put into words.

She offered him an apologetic smile to which he accepted with a curt nod. In a matter of seconds, the uncertainty and pain she felt that had driven a stake into her heart had vanished.

Perhaps she shouldn't think so much into a fleeting kiss. He clearly didn't feel the same about her, but that didn't mean they couldn't be friends.

He set her boot in her lap, shuffling close and positioning his arms under her knees and around her back, but not touching her.

"Arms. Your...arms...," he began, a bit flustered, "put your arms up."

She complied, but he avoided making direct eye contact as he lifted her in his arms. He didn't take her to Pantherlily, or Aurai, as she expected. Instead, he followed the rabbit path back the way they had traveled.

His steps were smoother than that of a horse's gait. If she had ridden, it would have caused her unnecessary pain and possible complications if she moved. This way was much easier. Gajeel nodded to himself. It was a winning argument. One he planned for on the likely chance she questioned him.

Sadly, she didn't. But that didn't stop him from enjoying his task. Her round hip pressed into his abdomen with every step, and her fingers linked together, resting against his neck. Everywhere she touched him, he felt like he was on fire.

A quick peek out of the corner of his eye told him that she was at the perfect angle if he wanted to kiss her. His conscience screamed at him that that would be taking advantage of her injured state. She would not be able to get away if she wanted to. And that was what kept him from doing so.

But just one kiss. All he had to do was turn. One sharp forty-five degree angle and he could re-obtain his little piece of heaven. There was always the chance she would like it and kiss him back. Hadn't she done so already?

They were halfway back to the river when she rested her head against his shoulder. The swaying tendrils of blue hair tickled the skin of his neck, but he didn't care.

He was glowing.

It was not the same as her kiss, but she had forgiven him enough to relax. It was a small action with powerful meaning. In this moment, this treasured moment, he realized she would need him. More so than before.

His hold on her tightened ever so slightly. He could help her. It wouldn't kill him.

"Gajeel."

The tone of her voice drew his attention away and he stopped mid-stride.

They had not yet broken the line of trees which kept them well hidden. Up ahead, he could see the stream and the rocky shore. Past the water and into the trees much farther ahead was a platoon of purple-clad soldiers bearing the emblem of Fiore's steward, Phantom Lord.

Reacting quickly, he ducked behind the trees, signaling his horse to do the same. He sent a silent thank you to the gods for his horse to have the good sense to take Levy's horse with him. Though the black animal knelt into the ground amidst the bushes, Gajeel felt certain Levy's mare wouldn't be spotted thanks to its current obsession with its meal underfoot.

He crouched low, still holding his watchmen to his chest. They hadn't been seen.

"Why're we hiding?" she whispered against his neck.

Her breath triggered his skin to blush, spreading up to his ears.

"They're looking for us," he explained. He leaned around the tree trunk, gaining a good view of the passing soldiers headed South.

"I thought you were with the king?"

At the mention of José, Gajeel groaned. He hadn't meant to let her in on it.

He clenched his jaw, peeking around the trunk once more.

A pair of soldiers had crossed the river, taking their same path.

"Shit," he cursed.

His mind flashed through a series of scenarios expected to play out. There was no reason for them to deviate from their group. So why did they?

Their men will notice they are gone, so they had to return at some point, but if he was discovered, there was no way they could return alive.

He ran his hand along her calf, and then the opposite leg, unsheathing her knife.

He could hear the heavy footfalls of armor almost upon them. With the hand that held the knife, he looked at her and placed one finger to his lips. A reminder to be silent.

What was to come wasn't exactly what he expected to happen.

* * *

 **Aha! Gotcha Minions.**

 **=)**

 **Don't forget to tell me what you think about this chapter! - What scenes did you like? What scenes didn't you like? Did you catch a mistake? Are you itching to tell me a headcanon? I'm all ears! You can message me, review me, or Anonomously message me on tumblr (if you're a little on the shy side.)**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **~All my Love~**

 **Peach**


	17. Chapter 17

"Kiss me."

The words were out of her mouth before she was conscious of their escape. They were near silent, inaudible except for the breathy whisper they were carried on.

But he heard. She saw the contemplation in his eyes and the flash of desire, coupled with sudden understanding. He weighed the possible outcomes and settled with the notion that if it didn't happen how they hoped, he could kill the soldiers anyways.

The briefest of smiles lit his face before he took her face between his hands and claimed her lips. Despite it being her idea, the contact shocked her. An electrical current passed through her body, singeing her blood and making her heart race. She crushed herself to him, temporarily forgetting her surroundings.

Gajeel traced the pads of his thumbs along her jaw, sweetly nipping for entrance. When she opened, he sank himself into her hot mouth, feeling her jerk in surprise at the touch of his tongue. He moved slow at first and taught her the simple dance, teasing and tasting, making her shiver with delight. He groaned at the feel of her lush, round bottom in his lap. He closed his eyes, dismissing the looming danger behind them.

His boldness excited her and her fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. She unclasped his mantle and yanked his shirt up to run her fingers unhindered across the scars of his body. She didn't know what possessed her to do such a thing, but she was giddy with the feel of him.

He was strong. Well-made muscles bunched and flexed under her wandering hands. Mindful of her injured ankle, she knelt between his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He tamped down the urge to laugh at her eagerness. It seemed he wasn't the only one affected by their previous kiss. She returned his fervor, drunk off his earthy scent. He smelt of leather and horse and man. On anyone else, she might have found it overwhelming, maybe even repugnant, but on him, it was comforting.

She eyed the fork in the tree's trunk, seeing the top of a helmet grow nearer.

Gajeel splayed his hand over her lower back and in her hair. She tasted so good and felt so right in his arms. She wasn't too tall to tangle his legs and not so little that he had to worry about inadvertently crushing her.

The guards!

The back of his mind was screaming at him and pierced his momentary bliss. He reluctantly pulled away from her to listen. Metallic rustling and meandering footfalls could be heard over the sound of Levy's shallow panting. They were searching the area, he realized. It seems they weren't loud enough to spook them.

A wicked glint lit his expression and Levy felt a slight tremor of fear flutter in her belly.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered.

She immediately nodded her head, and a wave of protectiveness surged in him and set his limbs with resolve.

He pulled her back to him softly, tenderly. This was not the same kiss as before, or ever. This confused Levy and she was at a loss as what to do with this gentleness. His fingers combed through the silken baby curls at the nape of her neck, sending chills across her skin.

He shifted, lifting her up and opening her thighs to straddle him. She gasped aloud at the new position, breathing in the hot pleasure. He seemed to grow impatient and his kisses more demanding. Her head swam at the intensity of his kiss. She felt him move under her. He was tilting her and she gripped him tighter as her laid her across the forest floor. He covered her with his body and resumed ravishing her with his mouth.

His heavy weight pinned her and she froze, instantly extinguishing the fiery passion of seconds past.

She couldn't move, could barely breathe. His touch stole her breath and she was rapidly losing control of the situation. It was too much, she determined. She couldn't tell if his passion was driven by madness or by necessity.

He was immediately aware of her rigidity and lifted himself up. Her eyes were wide with panic, her face set into one of terror; not even her lungs moved to take in air. Her fear cut him to the core; he had frightened her.

He cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb across her bottom lip. This was a bad idea, he concluded. Anything done now would certainly traumatize her. He should have known she was too inexperienced to be effective.

He cursed under his breath and hauled her up into a sitting position.

"Hah-HA! I knew it was you, Redfox!"

In a flash of movement, Levy's forgotten knife was in his hand, his body crouched in a rigid and defensive posture.

The guard who had spoken stepped away from the brush and towards them, pulling his helmet off. Black hair flopped into cheerful and equally black eyes. He brushed one gloved hand through the disobedient locks in a futile attempt to keep it out of his sight. He had a shy smile and Levy found herself strangely at ease in his presence.

Gajeel's stance relaxed and he rose to stand, though he didn't put the blade away. Levy scrambled to stand with him, but kept all her weight on her uninjured leg.

"Bisca! Come look."

The man with the kind smile gestured behind him and the second soldier stepped forward. He removed his helmet and a waterfall of green tresses spilled forth from the headgear. Levy recovered quickly from her shock at the sight of the green haired woman, but still maintained her wariness since Gajeel had yet to speak.

"It's been awhile."

The woman's voice was deep and held a lilting quality that could be described as sultry. She cocked one hip, giving a sardonic smirk that Levy vaguely recognized. By the way she held herself, Levy had the impression the woman would have been more comfortable without the armor and sword.

The woman called Bisca must have triggered something in Gajeel because he suddenly found his voice.

"Alzack..."

The man's smile grew wide, "In the flesh."

Gajeel reached forward and they closed the space between them, clasping each other's forearms.

Levy quickly looked between the armored pair and to Gajeel, hoping for a little guidance or clues as to how she should react to their presence. Gajeel appeared shocked more than happy, and Levy itched to have her knife back.

"Your little bird looks like she's about to fly the coop."

Gajeel looked at Bisca, then to Levy, as if he suddenly recalled her being there. He blinked once and his thoughts finally focused into coherent speech.

"Levy, these are my—"

He halted, unsure how to phrase to her who they were without giving away too much information.

"Spies," Alzack finished his sentence with a nod. "We keep watch on the steward and his movements. Relaying the information by courier. We've been remiss this last year, though." His lips quirked into a sad smile.

Gajeel straightened, recovering his usual gruff countenance, "What brings you here?"

Bisca was the one to answer him, "Looking for you. José seems to have realized you aren't returning any time soon. He's become determined."

Gajeel nodded, as though he expected her words, "I had a week to return. Starting yesterday."

Alzack's eyes widened considerably, "He knows you found it."

Gajeel snuck a glance at Levy who had become rooted to the forest floor. Her hands were fisted against her stomach, and her shoulders were stiff.

"Yeah, I found it alright," he muttered morosely, thinking back to José's words about bringing Levy back to Crocus.

Alzack clapped him on the back.

"Don't worry. The platoon is headed to Magnolia. We came by way of the mountains. It will be safe there."

Gajeel nodded his thanks to the soldier. He turned away from him, taking Levy's elbow and helping her balance before swinging her up into his arms.

"You almost had us, Redfox."

Gajeel looked over his shoulder at the pair, tilting his studded brow in question.

"We thought you were some wild animals getting it on. We almost turned back."

"What stopped you?"

Alzack jerked his chin towards a copse of trees where a certain blue equestrian took obvious refuge. Gajeel groaned internally when he saw her ears perk forward and to the sides, listening for them. She must have thought herself well-hidden despite the fact her entire rear-end could be seen from the river. He grit his teeth to keep from cursing the animal's lack of wits.

Alzack and Bisca bade them goodbye and Levy gave them a small wave behind Gajeel's back. She gave a shuddering sigh of relief that they were not actually out to take them into custody.

They were alone again in the forest and the sound of bracken crunching underfoot sounded more than obnoxious in her ears. It was too loud. She felt hot from their time kissing and she squirmed in his arms to get more comfortable.

"Y'okay?"

She immediately stilled and tried to keep her gaze on Aurai.

"Yeah," she whispered, not trusting herself to speak with her full voice.

Gajeel shifted her, obtaining a better, yet unnecessary, grip on her legs. He walked with large strides until they stood next to the roan mare. He sidled up to the horse and set the watchman into the saddle. It took a little effort to be careful of her ankle, but she did not flinch and she seemed well settled. He placed two fingers just past his lips and whistled for Pantherlily.

The horse trotted in from out of nowhere and dutifully waited for his master's next command. Levy eyed Gajeel's back as he stomped away. He was quite handsome and she immediately recalled running her fingers over the planes of his wide shoulders and back. Her mouth watered involuntarily as the breeze tormented her with his delicious scent. She cursed herself for her naïveté. She knew to expect a little more from Gajeel when she suggested he kiss her. He was a dominating figure. She accepted it. So why did it terrify her?

He stepped up and swung himself into the black saddle, adjusting the reins in his fingers for comfort. He turned his horse towards her and he took the reins from her hands.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he fastened the tack to his own saddle.

He met her eyes with a glimmer of steel and amusement.

"Can't have y'running off on me again."

He nudged Lily into a brisk walk before digging into one of the saddle bags. He proffered a bright red apple and small wedge of yellow cheese, both of which he passed to her.

She glowed from his thoughtfulness and proceeded to dig into her meal with haste. Gajeel watched her from the corner of his eye, pleased that she took the food without argument.

When Levy had finished off the last bite of cheese, she proceeded to sucking her fingers clean. Her stomach settled into a sated weight and she sighed. She caught his gaze by chance and they stared at one another, a current of electricity passing between them.

A bright red flush crept up her cheeks, making her burn under his scrutiny until she could no longer bear his eyes on her. She tore herself away and resolutely kept her eyes on the passing scenery.

In her wide scope of knowledge, Levy realized that it wasn't him that actually terrified her. It was the fact that she knew absolutely nothing when it came to physical love.


End file.
